


Chasing The Sun

by Allyjayrunaway



Series: Light Me Up [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Character Growth, F/F, Part two of the Light Me Up trilogy, angsty fluff, brief mentions of chinchillas, cursing, the whole 9 yards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allyjayrunaway/pseuds/Allyjayrunaway
Summary: They slide into the booth, dropping wearily onto worn, patched leather and trying desperately to keep tears from flooding out onto pale cheeks. Eyes turned down, they can barely stand to look at each other. Bust gone wrong would be an understatement of mass proportion, but they don’t expect the others to understand. Erin’s fingers claw their way into Holtzmann’s just as the engineer heaves a sob and hides her face in Erin’s shoulder. She’s soaked and exhausted but her mind refuses to stop racing with the force if what she’s just seen and, soon enough, her face crumples under the weight of it all.





	1. And the gift of my heartbeat sounds like a symphony

**Author's Note:**

> Back by popular demand (not)  
> As always, if you love it or hate it, drop me a line at the end.  
> Shout out to the most beautiful corgi in a sea full of corgis, Cass you're my hero.  
> Also, if you hate Phil (and I'm sure most of us do) I'm hoping you'll be pleased by the events that occur in this chapter.  
> Lastly, the inspiration song for Part 2 is Chasing the Sun (duh) by Sara Bareilles. I'd highly suggest giving that a listen if you have the chance.  
> Ps. The formatting is a bit off but I simply can't find the energy to try and fix it atm, so bear with me.

They slide into the booth, dropping wearily onto worn, patched leather and trying desperately to keep tears from flooding out onto pale cheeks. Eyes turned down, they can barely stand to look at each other. Bust gone wrong would be an understatement of mass proportion, but they don’t expect the others to understand. Erin’s fingers claw their way into Holtzmann’s just as the engineer heaves a sob and hides her face in Erin’s shoulder. She’s soaked and exhausted but her mind refuses to stop racing with the force if what she’s just seen and, soon enough, her face crumples under the weight of it all. She’s been privy to Holtzmann’s tears on only one other occasion and it damn near ripped her already compromised heart in two, but she would take that sight every single day if it would erase what she’s been forced to take part in that morning.  Tears wind their way over her cheeks and drop onto the smooth lacquer of the table below, and she feel the force of Holtzmann’s anger and fear slamming through her body at the speed of a double heartbeat.

 

            “Holtz.” It crawls out of her throat on an unbidden gasp, barely intelligible. “It’s okay. We’re here. We’re both here.” But even as the words strike the air between them, flashes explode behind her eyes and she doubts the veracity of her own reassurances. They aren’t there, not completely. They’re stuck somewhere amidst the headstones in a cemetery in the center of Queens.

 

*****

 

            Abby slides to a halt at a stop light, barely pausing to look back at Patty before barreling her way into traffic.

 

            “ _Abbaayyy_! You gonna get yourself killed!” She shouts over the din of car horns, but Abby ignores her.

 

            “Come _on,_ Patty!”

 

Patty sighs before tentatively taking a step into the crosswalk once the light has turned.

 

            “Where are we even going?” They’ve been sprinting for two blocks and, honestly, she is not about this shit. “Do you even _know_?”

 

            “I don’t need this right now, Patty! Either shut up or you’re no longer going to be part of this operation!” There’s a ragged edge to her voice, though Patty can’t tell if it’s from the sudden panic or the running, but she’s starting to get a side stitch and she needs answers. Putting on an extra burst of speed, she reaches out just far enough to clap a hand on Abby’s shoulder and pull her to a stop.

 

            “You better tell me what’s goin’ on, because all I know right now is that we got ditched after a bust where you and I didn’t bust, and now you’re sprinting through traffic like a goddamn maniac. What did I miss here?”

 

            “Did you see the way they ran off? Something awful happened, and it’s my fault. And they’re not at home… _and we have to find them_!” Patty can see now that the ragged quality to her voice can be attributed to the tears piling up at the corners of bright green eyes.    

 

            “Holtzy and Erin? You saw as well as I did, they’re fine! Fine enough to be hoppin’ gravestones and hailing taxis, at least. Why you freakin’ out like this, Abbs? And why would it be your fault?” The tears seem to evaporate as Abby makes up her mind to the more rational side, taking a shaky breath before trying to explain herself.

 

            “They just…Erin had this _look_ on her face, and I’ve never heard Holtzmann scream like that, and I just…I didn’t take it seriously enough, and now something’s wrong. I can _feel it_.” Patty lets this go unchecked, holding back a comment about how the last time she heard Holtz scream like that, she was hanging out a window. Instead, she forces a calm smile and gently says,

 

            “Okay. But where are we going? Have you even tried calling them yet?”

 

            “They left their phones in the Ecto 1, and I have _no_. _Idea_. _Where they are.“_ The edge is back, and Patty has to diffuse the nuclear meltdown currently bubbling over in the middle of the sidewalk.

 

            “And we’re certain they’re not hiding out somewhere in the firehouse?”

 

            “Patty, I’m positive. We have to find them.” A hysterical note is creeping further into her voice with every word and Patty only has to think back to a few months ago, when Erin disappeared for a whopping 27 hours, to know that half of their team missing is going to send Abby into the stratosphere of anxiety, so yeah. They do have to find them.

 

            “Okay. Well…where did Erin go last time?”

 

 *****

 

The waffles appear somewhere between tears and nightmares, when neither of them are paying attention. Erin’s concentration lies fully in the feeling of Holtzmann’s hands in hers, skin lighting friction fires; Holtzmann can’t bring herself to open her eyes for fear that the woman beside her will cease to exist.

 

            “Holtz. Waffles.” Erin’s voice, rusted with tears and disuse, peeps out and spills into the cracks running through Holtzmann’s heart, soothing the hurt. The soft murmur so disresembles the frantic screams echoing through the chords of her memory that she can’t help but crack an eye open. Two waffles, dwarfed in whipped cream, rest peacefully on the table in front of them, and a groggy chuckle works its way out of her worn frame.

 

            “Remind me to send Larry a lifetime of free busts.”

 

            “Already done.” Erin says dreamily.

 

            “Okay, then remind me to kiss him senseless.”

 

            “Holtz…” A deep laugh rumbles from low in Erin’s chest before she cringes.

 

            “You hear it too, right? That voice…I’m not the only one.” It’s meant to be a question, but the words falling from Holtzmann’s lips hit the ground like law. Erin doesn’t reply, the deep cracking of pulverized headstone and the smell of ionization replaying vividly behind closed eyelids. “Hey, we’re okay.” Holtz is snapped from her own reverie when the breaths begin to whistle faster and faster through Erin’s lungs. She straightens, pulling on Erin’s chin until two wide, blue eyes are locked inches from hers. “We’re okay, Erin. It didn’t happen.” There’s an earnest sincerity in her reassurances that takes Erin’s heartrate up a notch.

 

            “How did this day get so fucked up, so fast?” It’s an honest question, and Reckless Erin has fled the scene, leaving only Bent-and-Broken Erin in her ever-widening wake.

 

            “We flew too close to the sun?” A solid attempt to lighten the heavy air surrounding them, but Holtz is afraid it falls flat until Erin groans.

 

            “Can we refrain from any Icarus references? Matisse did try to kill me, if you recall.” It’s meant to be easy banter, but the mention of death brings everything flooding back.

 

            “Okay, it’s waffle time. The Holtz needs fuel.”

 

 *****

 

_“Okay guys, we got a bust! T3 in Queens, everybody suit up!” Abby’s voice rings through the firehouse as Holtz slides down the pole, whooping. Erin follows closely behind, giggling at her antics. It feels good; they haven’t had a bust in weeks and they can only do so much research and observation before somebody starts getting antsy._

_“Thank GOD.” Patty emerges from the library, pulling boots on in the process, and Abby laughs._

_Loading the car is a breeze by now, a well-oiled dance routine, but the drive itself takes longer than expected. Abby can just feel the anticipation rising with every passing second; it’s in the way Holtzmann taps along on the steering wheel in time with Erin’s bouncing knee, and the way Patty mutters to herself every few minutes, and the way her own palms begin to tingle in preparation of proton kickbacks. It may only be 9:30 in the morning but the Ghostbusters are hyped._

_“And we’re live!” Holtz yells as they screech to a halt in the gravel.  They emerge simultaneously, doors slamming and racks popping as they don their packs, silent except for a sudden ‘Oh Hell no.’ From Patty’s direction. Abby snaps her head up to look through the accumulating fog at their destination. A decrepit cemetery peers back through the mist and her stomach lurches._

_“Allllriiight!” Holtz cackles gleefully before Patty smacks her shoulder._

_“Uh, Abby? You forgot to disclose that the bust location was going to be a cemetery.” Erin’s voice cuts through the gloom, shocking her out of stunned silence._

_“A bust is a bust.” She tries to sound confident, but she can’t help adding, “Also, all they gave me was the address and description.” It’s at that precise moment that a sharp crack echoes amongst the tombstones, and Abby has a very, very bad feeling about disregarding the claims about the violent nature of the apparition. “Lock and load and in formation, everybody.” Her voice sounds much stronger than she feels._

 

*****

 

“I’m telling you, they’re not here!”

 

“Get out of my way, Benny, or I swear to God, I’ll shove your non-existent wontons up your ass.” Abby is deadly serious, and Patty’s trying not to laugh.

 

“Better get out of her way. I’ve seen her take on two taxis and a particularly angry cabbie…and that was in the last twenty minutes.”

 

“Really?! Again? How many times are you going to tell me to shove wontons up my ass? Is that your only threat?” He’s shifted into what can only be described as his ‘sassy stance’, and at this point, the only thing he’s blocking is Abby’s thought process, and there’s no time for that.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is that not good enough for you? How about I shove something else up there too, like my fi-“

 

“Abby!” Patty calls down from where she’s ascended the stairs unnoticed. “He’s right. They ain’t here.” Climbing back down, she has just enough time to witness her fellow Ghostbuster whisper,

 

“Mess with the bull, Benny. See what happens.” Before she’s dragging the smaller woman back out into the alley.

 

“Seriously? You gotta find a better hobby than threatening that boy.”

 

“Are you gonna take _all_ the fun out of this for me? ‘Abby, no running through traffic!’, ‘Abby, no threatening the helpless delivery boy!’ What else am I supposed to do to take my mind off the fact that two of my best friends are M.I.A.?!” The force of trying not to erupt into laughter at Abby’s impression of her nearly brings tears to Patty’s eyes. She coughs surreptitiously before facing her frazzled friend.

 

“Look, we know they ain’t injured, so why don’t you do us all a favor and take a chill pill. And while you’re at it, you can tell me where else they could be.” She’s had about all she can take of being gentle and is quickly skyrocketing into smacking territory.

 

“I don’t know where Holtzmann goes! Erin’s the only one who goes scavenging with her. Why don’t _you_ tell _me_ where they could be?” She needs to break something, or the panic mounting in her chest is going to break her. Patty notices the way her fists are clenched and decides that the perfect time for an intervention was five minutes ago.

 

“Abby, look at me. I trust them -well, I trust Erin- to get somewhere safe, and right now, I need you to trust me. We’re gonna find them, but for right now, you’re stuck with just me, and Just Me is scared of the way your hands are doing the clenchy thing. So if you needa break something, warn me beforehand, _please_.” Abby consciously un-flexes her fists to smooth sweaty palms over her thighs, and does her level best to take a deep breath.

 

“What do you suggest we do?” It’s the least offensive phrase she’s managed to utter since hightailing it out of the firehouse and, from the look on her face, it takes a lot of effort to grunt those six words with anything mildly resembling equanimity.

 

“I suggest we calm ourselves and think, like the functioning academics we are, about where they would have gone in a time like this.”

 

“I’ve never claimed to be functioning, _ever_. I’m not Erin, fooling herself for ten years.” Patty understands. Erin left once, and Abby is constantly preparing herself for the second fallout, only now there is the very real possibility that Holtzy would go with her. She understands. _Usually_. But today Abby’s projected fears and bitterness over past mistakes are rubbing her in all the wrong directions.

 

“You know as well as me that the only people Erin was fooling were the stuck up fuckwads standing in the way of something she wanted. You think she’s trynna fool _anyone_ when she’s bustin’ like a badass? No. All she ever wanted was to be believed, and she’s had to fight her way into accepting all the criticism and the haters calling her Ghost Girl. So Imma need you to lock that shit down _right now_. Erin is as much a part of this team as any of us, and I trust she’s doing what she thinks is right, so I need you to hold it together or I swear I will drag your mad ass back to the firehouse and we’ll wait for them to come home like _normal people_.” There’s no room in her tone for negotiation and Patty shoots her most menacing glare as she watches her small friend visibly deflate.

 

“Okay. I just…I’m worried and neither of them deal with trauma all that well, and I just want to protect them. I’m not trying to shove all the negative shit on you, I’m just scared.”

 

“You? Scared? Never woulda thought that possible.” Patty knows what it takes to get Abby to admit she’s scared and quickly gives her an out, accompanied by a smirk and a wink.

 

“Shut up, Patty. Let’s go get our stupid friends back.” There’s a light flaring in her eyes, and if she’d had a light bulb over her head, it would have lit up like the sun.

 

“Lead the way, Chickabiddy Shortshanks.”

 

“Patty, what the _hell_ did you just call me?” Patty laughs heartily, her aim to keep Abby dancing on that thin line between joy and fury.

 

“Don’t any of y’all read? God, crack some Hans Christian Andersen once in a while.” Abby smiles -genuinely- for the first time in hours before rapid firing.

 

“If you don’t get a move on, the only thing being read will be my Miranda Rights. And I can’t go back to jail.”

 

“Uh…back?” Patty’s eyebrows are having a nice meet’n’greet with her hairline, but Abby just chuckles evilly before turning to strut down the alley in the direction of her latest brilliant idea. “Answer me, Crazy!” She continues to walk silently, Patty chasing after and growing more and more profane with each unanswered question.

 

*****

 

_All four members of the Ghostbusting team turn silently toward the sound of the cracking, mouths agape in horror. It’s Holtzmann who finds her voice first._

_“Uh, Abbs? Have we upgraded the classification system? Cuz your T3 looks more like a T6 to me… And I’d rate the apocalypse at a T5.9.”_

_“Is that a…?” Erin breathes quietly, a desperate and weak attempt not to disturb the beast picking its way in their direction._

_“It’s a fucking dinosaur!?” Abby’s vehement whisper is full of awestruck bewilderment._

_“Baby, check yoself. That’s a T-Rex.” Patty’s jaw barely moves, voice only just reaching her teammates ears._

_“I was just thinking about dinosaurs! This is so weird!” Holtz shouts, no regard to the behemoth crossing the cemetery in front of them. The fog enshrouding the grounds acts as if it’s got a mind of its own, thickening to an almost palpable level despite the sun shining brightly overhead._

_“Well, stop thinking about dinosaurs, Dr. Cray!” Patty screams into her ear._

_“Uh…Holtz?” Erin has been strangely quiet during this whole encounter and three heads swing simultaneously to face her, questioning glances abundant. “What exactly were you thinking about dinosaurs?”_

_“That I’m kinda glad they’re all dead because I’d hate to go up against one in a fight?” She answers weakly. Her mind is prone to wandering when all of her attention isn’t being diverted to the reflex portion of her nervous system._

_“What exactly are you thinking?” Abby has a peculiar look on her face, as if she can see Erin’s train of thought running off the tracks._

_Erin intends to say, “I’m not sure.” But what comes out is more along the lines of, “Haaaaahhhwaaaa!!” Because suddenly she’s being chased by a fucking dinosaur._

 

*****

 

“I swear to whatever God I can find in the time I have left, these waffles are gonna be the last thing I think about before I die.”

 

“Holtz! What did I say about mentioning death?” Erin attempts to sound frustrated, but she’d be lying if she said that the thought had never crossed her mind.

 

“Yeah, I know, but Erin…these waffles are to _die_ for.”

 

“You’re saying you’d die for these waffles? These ones right here?” There’s an evil glint in her eyes and Holtzmann chuckles.

 

“Definitely. You planning a homicide? Cuz if you are, just let me get two more bites in. Then you can take me.” Holtz shovels a decent helping into her mouth, wiping whipped cream off her chin haphazardly. The waffle almost makes a reappearance, however, when Erin sends out her sultriest smirk and Holtz chokes at the breathy words that follow.

 

“Again? _Here_? In front of all these _people_?” Her façade cracks at the sight of Holtzmann’s wide eyes and she snorts.

 

“Keep it PG, Dr. Gilbert. There are _children_ in here!” She does her best to look scandalized, but it’s not a look she wears well. In order to exude an emotion, one has to have felt it before, and Holtz just isn’t into feeling the need to protect random bystanders’ innocence most days. In fact, she’s usually in the business of ruining childhoods.

 

“Oh, I don’t think they’d mind. It would be…educational.” There’s bite in her words and a razor sharp edge on her smirk, and Holtz realizes too late that Erin’s getting even with her for the sheer number of times she’s been stupid enough to mention dying in the last hour. She feels an unfamiliar rush of blood to the surface of her face and neck, and Holtzmann is _blushing_. Of course, for Erin, triumphant doesn’t even _begin_ to describe the feeling.

 

“You’re a terrible human being.” She grits back in Erin’s direction.

 

“Yup. The worst.” Erin replies brightly before they both turn back to the waffles at hand. Several minutes pass by before she dares to say what’s on her mind. “But seriously, can we keep the mentions of dying to a minimum please?” It’s a gentle, quiet plea and Holtzmann notes the worried tone.

 

“Anything for you, Babycakes.”

 

*****

 

“This was your brilliant idea?” There’s an accusation in Patty’s tone that has Abby on the defensive.

 

“Look, Holtzmann told me once that this was her favorite place to hide, okay? I think it’s worth a shot.”

 

“Abby, it’s _Central Park_. How in the actual fuck are we supposed to find them in an area this big and heavily forested, _especially_ if they’re _hiding_?” The light in Abby’s eyes dims slightly under the onslaught of Patty’s logic before brightening once more.

 

“Do you…think you can run, if necessary?”

 

“What do you mean, ‘can I run if necessary’?” Patty’s getting real sick of all of her questions going unanswered. Meanwhile, Abby is climbing toward the highest point she can think of which, unfortunately for them, would appear to be the tree under which they stand. “ _Abbaayy_! What are you _doing_?”

 

“Just get ready to run!” Having reached the highest possible point, she takes her final ghost grenade from the holster, saying a small prayer to whomever may be listening that this day doesn’t end with her on the wrong side of prison cell. Pressing the trigger, she watches as the seconds count down before hurling it as high over the park as she can manage. Grasping the branch in front of her so tight that her knuckles pop, she clenches her eyes shut as a ‘medium’ poof rings out through the previously serene greenery.

 

“This is why we can’t have nice things.” Patty mutters to herself as faint screams begin to roll over the hills and the tell-tale wobble of red and blues race along side streets toward them.

 

“Patty, that’s your cue!” The sharp voice floats down from somewhere among the foliage.

 

“ _Abigail Yates_. I hate you _so much_ right now!” She screams over her shoulder, every ounce of energy focused on finding somewhere to hide. But Patty don’t climb trees, so she’s rapidly running out of options. Several yards later, and with the scream of sirens reverberating in her ears, the dense trees lining the path open up onto a clearing and what might just be her salvation. “If Abby don’t get arrested, I’m gonna kill her.” She flings herself out of sight just as two officers jog into the clearing.

 

“I’m telling you man, there’s no evidence of an explosion whatsoever.” They’re both younger, late thirties maybe, and Patty chuckles. Thank God for Holtzy and her crazy ass.

 

“I heard it myself. Something went off over here.” The older of the two sounds much more business-like, and Patty holds her breath as he wanders toward her hiding spot.

 

“Hey, maybe it’s the Ghostbusters! You should call the mayor!” The first one quips before erupting into snickering laughter.

 

“You weren’t even here when it happened, Jered. They probably saved everyone in the city.” He strides back over to face his partner, and the irony is almost enough to make Patty laugh.

 

“Okay, Paul. I think you just had a little too much of that impounded weed.”

 

“It was one time. Jesus. Let’s get out of here, there’s barely anyone in the park today anyway.” Soft footsteps echo around the clearing as they turn back the way they came, and Patty heaves a sigh of relief. Now to get out of this child-hellhole. She goes to wiggle out of the tube on the playground into which she dived, but nothing will budge. After several intense minute of huffing and puffing and going nowhere, the phone in her hand begins to buzz. Abby doesn’t even give her a chance to speak before she’s rambling.

 

“Okay, so there’s good news and bad news. Good news is that I did _not_ get arrested. Bad news: Erin and Holtz are definitely not here. Where are you at?”

 

“I’m _stuck_. That’s where I’m at.”

 

*****

 

_“Use DeBye!” Abby screams over the roaring of their prehistoric foe. Erin stops and plants her feet against a crumbling headstone, taking aim before pausing. The edges of the beast, outlined against the fog, are beginning to waver radically before it disappears entirely._

_“Where did it go?!” She shouts, voice overly loud in the wake of sudden silence._

_“What do you mean ‘where did it go?’ You didn’t shoot it?!” Abby’s voice floats toward her from several yards to her left. She can barely make out a thing due to the ever-thickening condensation, and a shiver works its way up her spine. She freezes as the air in front of her ripples, finger on the trigger, before Holtzmann steps into her line of sight, silent but for a salute thrown in her direction._

_“Yo! Guys, I can’t see anything, where is it?!” Patty sounds off from across the graveyard. Erin turns toward the sound and misses the strange blue halo encasing Holtzmann from head to toe. It flickers out of existence as she turns back to face her partner in crime._

_“C’mon. Let’s go find the others and regroup. I have a feeling this is far from over.” Erin takes the lead, striding forward a few feet before turning back for a confirmation. Instead, Holtz stands stock still, a peculiar look glued to her face, although it’s so dim that Erin can’t help but wonder if she’s imagining things. “Holtz-“_

_She’s cut off as Holtzmann flies upward, dragged into the fog above her by an invisible force, eyes wide, face frozen in a soundless howl. Erin stands paralyzed as Holtzmann’s arc is reversed violently, body dropping like a stone to tangle messily with the spires of a marble mausoleum._

_“Holtz!” Erin’s voice rips raw into the clouded air and tears flood over ashen cheeks. She explodes into motion, tripping over demolished headstones, skinning the palms of her hands and carving jagged lines into her knees. She stumbles brokenly toward Holtzmann’s impromptu landing pad, but stops dead in her tracks as a very Holtzmann-like voice echoes through the gloom from behind her._

_“ERIN! NO!”_

 

*****

 

“Ladies, how we doin’?” Larry is in his late 60’s, all silver hair and quirky grin, and over the years Erin has come to view him as a sort of auxiliary father figure.

 

“I’ve had better days.” She says wryly. Her grin cracks into a full blown chuckle as he plops himself down on the opposite side of their booth.

 

“I know how you feel, Doc.” He smiles gently in her direction before turning his warm gaze toward Holtzmann. “And I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced, although I’d like to thank you for keeping my favorite customer here company. I’m Larry.” Holtz grasps his hand warmly before releasing a signature grin.

 

“Holtzmann. And I’m not gonna lie, Lar. I’ve proposed marriage to you way too many times already for this to be our first official meet’n’greet.” She appreciates his genuine smile and the high regard he obviously has for Erin, but she’s nervous at the prospect of once again being the outsider. Larry’s known Erin ten times as long as she has, and it feels wrong to try and impose priority on her relationship over theirs.

 

“Holtz is my- uhh…” Erin begins, nervously tugging at her hair. Larry knows, she’s complained to him about crushes and men and women, and she knows he won’t see her any differently but the words still stick in her throat.

 

“Do you believe this?” He says, winking at Holtzmann. “Doc’s all flustered and can’t even say ‘girlfriend’. Jesus, Erin, it’s not like I’m gonna give her _the talk_ or anything. And for the record, I like this one much better than the last guy -what was his name, Dick?”

 

“Phil.” Erin mutters softly, blush creeping into her skin from all directions as her head slowly falls into her hands.

 

“Yeah, whatever. He was a loser. This one’s got spunk.” Holtzmann is worried her face might split in half from the force of her grin.

 

“Yeah, _Doc_. I’ve got spunk.”

 

“Okay, you know what? Shut up, both of you. It’s not fair to team up on me a whole thirty seconds after actually meeting.” Face, meet palm.

 

“No seriously, how did that become a thing? ‘Doc’ is not exactly a nickname I woulda picked out for you.”

 

“It’s a long story.” Erin says dismissively right as Larry launches into the aforementioned long story.

 

“Well, the first time I met Erin, she was fresh off the plane after getting her position at Columbia.” Erin blushes even more deeply, something she seriously would have considered a statistical impossibility. “It was probably her second-“

 

“Third.” Erin corrects from her permanent resting place behind her fingers.

 

“-Third day in New York, and in walks this girl, exhausted and wearing some god-awful tweed thing and introducing herself as Dr. Gilbert.” Holtz can barely contain her glee.

 

“So this is what an aneurysm feels like.” She mutters to no one in particular.

 

“Anyway, she orders a waffle with extra whip and sits in this exact booth, slugging back coffee like there’s no tomorrow when this guy at the bar starts choking on his French Toast. We’re talking massive flailing, blue in the face, honest-to-God _choking_. I call an ambulance and try to help in any way I can, but I’m an older guy and there’s not much I know how to do in that situation but wait for help. Then it hits me, we’ve got a doctor sitting _right there_. So I yell, ‘Dr. Gilbert, help!” And she walks over, cool as a cucumber, and punches this guy, big guy, right in the solar plexus. Out pops this slimy piece of toast, and he’s coughing like mad, but otherwise fine. So as she’s walking back over here, not a word to anyone, I say ‘Thanks, Doc!” and she gives me this fiery look before shouting, ‘I’m a Doctor of Particle Physics, goddammit!’ So she’s been Doc ever since. That was almost ten years ago.” Erin is massaging her temples, as if anything else in this day could go wrong, and Holtzmann’s eyes could be mistaken for dinner plates.

 

“Whaaaat?” She says softly, turning to gaze at the woman next to her.

 

“You know, she hadn’t ever quite resembled that girl so much as when she started bringing you along.” He says thoughtfully, eyes resting warmly on that girl he’s grown to love.

 

“Ugh, Larry, that’s not true.” Erin is feeling defensive, still not ready to admit to the outside world that she’d been masquerading as someone else for the better part of a decade.

 

“Doc, you brought that Phil guy in twice. Over the course of a year. The first time, he asked if we had a vegan alternative to eggs, and the second time, he ordered for you. And you _let_ him!”

 

“Okay, but you still brought me the waffles…” Her tone is light, despite the accusatory statement.

 

“And he said you were gonna have to find somewhere else to get breakfast! I’ve said this a thousand times: girl, guy, non-gender conforming… I don’t care who you bring in as long as their ego can fit in this damn booth.” He places a gentle hand over hers before continuing. “I’m real glad you’re finally listening to me.” He shoots Holtz a smile which she gladly returns. “Now, tell me exactly why the two of you were over here sobbing for the better part of an hour. Did somebody die?” And the sky comes crashing down all over again.

 

 

It takes the better part of twenty minutes to free Patty from her plastic, yellow prison, but through a mixture of pushing, pulling, and swearing, she finally emerges a free woman. Only to grab Abby by the shoulders and shake her violently.

 

“If you _ever_ pull something like that on me again, I. Will. _Kill_. You.” Abby simply twists out of her grip, more pressing issues at hand than her impending death.

 

“I did what I had to do, okay?”

 

“It was actually a pretty good idea. If you wanna spend the next six months doing strip searches and pat downs!”

 

“Ugh, it’s over and done with. Can we move on, please?” Abby’s getting itchy again, the need to be actively doing something getting the better of her as she marches back toward civilization.

 

“I think we need to sit down and analyze this for a sec. Get a game plan together, think like Erin and Holtzy.” Forever the voice of reason, Patty is. “Cuz I ain’t gonna do this whole ‘wild goose chase’ thing if I’m gonna end up behind bars.”

 

“You know the Mayor would bail us out in no time.” Abby says dismissively.

 

“That shit stays on your record, fool! Now how ‘bout we analyze this whole situation properly. From what I remember, it was mostly Erin dragging Holtzy outta there, so my bet is that they’re somewhere she would go. Can you think of anywhere that might be?”

 

“Patty, before Rowan and the whole apocalypse thing, I hadn’t spoken to Erin for almost ten years. How on Earth am I supposed to know where she would go?” She’s so involved in recalling her own heartbreak over losing her best friend for that long that she misses the grim smile that crawls onto Patty’s lips.

 

“Then we just gon’ hafta talk to somebody who might.”

 

*****

_“ERIN! NO!” It comes from behind her hysteria penetrating the fog in loud ringing notes._

_“Holtz?!” Erin pivots on the spot, sprinting back through the gloom before running smack dab into Abby._

_“Erin, quit running in circles. You were just over here; I told you: if I see anything, I’ll call you on the walkie.” Erin pauses, confusion coloring her vision before a hollow scream comes from the direction where she heard Holtzmann shouting her name, and she takes off once again. Something is clearly very wrong here. The fog seems to press in from all directions, clogging her nose and throat as she fights to take a breath. She has the horrifying feeling of being paralyzed even though she can see her feet moving. A wall of gray surrounds her and she can’t seem to break through. A tall headstone looms up on her seemingly out of nowhere, and she’s forced to sidestep quickly before she sees a series of flashing lights up ahead. Charging headfirst, pistol in hand, she arrives onto the scene of one of her worst nightmares. Holtz is backtracking fast, weakly fending off blows from a humanoid apparition, seemingly unwilling to use any of the weapons in her arsenal. Stepping forward into the clearing, she calls out to Holtzmann, who turns to face her, eyes wide with horror. The ghost freezes, before turning to take a step toward Erin, and she finally gets a glimpse of what she’s up against._

_It's HER, eyes alight with green fury and mouth twisted in a sickening grin. Erin feels like she’s been punched in the gut, air leaving her body in a sinister whoosh. She stumbles back a step; the facsimile of her seems intent on taking Erin out before returning to torment Holtzmann. Everything she has suspected about this ghost is proving to be true, a fact that scared her more than she could fathom. It was feeding off their fear and using it to manipulate them. Holtz lets out a howl when she triggers a grenade and lobs it toward the Ghost Erin, and she swears it takes a piece of her with it. The explosion does nothing to slow the demonic wraith stalking toward her, a bone-chilling cackle erupting from its mouth. It somehow deflects a point blank shot from her pistol, but the academic voice in her head, while completely horrified, reminds her that capturing a corporeal being this caliber would be a scientific gold mine. The internal argument costs her precious time, though, and by the time she realizes what’s happening, the ghost has her by the throat against an iron gate, and she can almost feel the cold seeping into her from where the fingers dig into her skin._

_“ERIN!” Holtzmann is clawing her way toward them, and Erin can’t breathe; purple spots begin to swirl and dance in her peripherals but, suddenly, the light behind the ghost’s eyes extinguishes and she’s staring into her own blues._

_“Holtz, it’s the ghost.” Her own voice slithers out of the puppet’s mouth and her stomach heaves. “We have to kill it.” Holtzmann is frozen on the spot, eyes flicking back and forth between them, and Erin can visibly see the anguish emanating from her every pore, which only seems to fuel the ghost further. It seems drawn to it._

_“Holtz!” She chokes, expending precious air, before an unexpected flash of rage ignites in her veins. There’s no way in FUCK she’s going to be taken out by a ghost masquerading around as her; the real Erin has done plenty of masquerading herself. Holtzmann still makes no move toward them, instead uttering a deep keening sob._

_“Holtz, help me. Please.” The ghost implores, shoving her harder against the cold iron, and if she could breathe at all, she thinks that the sound of her voice slithering out of this thing would make her sick. Holtzmann locks eyes with her and she shakes her head violently. Its grip on her slackens as it turns fully toward the engineer, and Erin’s toes can just barely brush the ground. Before she can think of a way to use this new leverage, it releases her entirely in favor of stepping toward Holtz, and she falls to the ground gasping._

_“If it wasn’t me, how would I know all about Rebecca, or Gerald, or your mother?” The voice is slippery like silk and Holtzmann lets out another anguished cry._

_“I saw you die.” She grits out, tone hollow amidst a voice that tumbles like gravel._

_“It’s the ghost, it’s manipulating us.” It says with a pout. “Why won’t you believe me? No one will ever believe me.” Holtzmann opens her mouth to reply, but Erin has had enough of this crap. Leaning heavily against the gate and grabbing DeBye from its customary resting place over her shoulders, she takes aim and uses every last one of her available faculties to send this thing back to hell._

_“Die screaming, motherfucker.” She croaks as it emits a piercing wail and explodes into a shower of mist, soaking her to the bone._

_“What did you just do?” Holtz screams, whirling on her with madness in her eyes._

_“It was that thing…Holtz, it’s gone.” She can do no more than wheeze, but it’s clear that Holtzmann isn’t prepared to believe anything she sees. Instead, Erin crushes her in a hug, and she melts. Tears coat the crook of Erin’s neck and she has to get them out of there. Dragging Holtz through the maze of tombstones on the now crystal clear day, she whistles as loudly as she can. When a taxi pulls to the curb, she can barely give him the address before succumbing to the panic herself._

 

*****

 

The minutes continue to tick by, slowly passing with an agony exaggerated by the massive clock mounted on the wall. Abby’s getting antsy again; the long wait serving as a truly anticlimactic reward after her heroic lock-picking triumph. Adding to her frustration is the fact that, grandiose effect in mind, she’s placed herself in a position where she can’t see the door. Oh, the sacrifices one must make for the drama. The clock tolls out twelve long booms and, if the sign is anything to go by, he should be here by now. She’s just about to forsake this brilliant plan of theirs when the faint sound of keys jangling outside the door forces her firmly back into her seat.

It’s _Showtime_.

 

The door swings open lazily and she gives him a good fifteen seconds before speaking.

 

“Welcome, Phil. Sit down.” Turning the chair slowly, every clichéd Bond villain flashes through her mind before she glimpses the horrified look on his face.

 

“She said: _sit_.” Patty orders from her place by the door and he immediately obeys.

 

“Wait a minute…You’re Erin’s -um- colleagues.” He says weakly, accusations coloring his tone.

 

“Well, would you look at that. He’s got eyes.” She addresses Patty dryly, half expecting him to wet himself.

 

“What do you want?” He asks, tone petulant and dismissive, and Abby really doesn’t like it.

 

“Listen up, Buddy. Two of my best friends are missing, and I’m not feeling particularly nice today. So you’re gonna tell me everything I need to know about where Erin would go to escape things, or Patty here-“ Motioning to the tall woman, now standing directly behind him. “-is gonna make walking to your next class very difficult.” He scoffs, checking his manicured nails and crossing his legs primly. Whatever Erin had seen in this man notwithstanding, Abby feels the increasing urge to backhand him over this nice mahogany desk.

 

“I always knew she was a little off, but this just takes the cake. Then again, crazy always runs with crazy.” She has the distinct feeling that the next time he opens his mouth, she’s going to end up cramming her fist into it. “And even if I did know anything about that, what makes you think I’d tell you two crack pots?” Patty’s had just about enough of this attitude, so she rests heavy hands on his thin shoulders and faces Abby.

 

“I don’t think he’s gonna tell us anything without a little encouraging. Would you get on that, Abbs?” Phil tries and fails to squirm out of Patty’s firm grasp, meanwhile Abby turns her attention to the computer in front of her. The password is easy enough to bypass and within several seconds, she’s composing an email to the esteemed Dr. Filmore.

 

“How does this sound: ‘Dr. Filmore, my sincerest regrets, but I’m afraid I must tender you my letter of resignation. I’ve been truly inspired by Dr. Gilbert’s decision to follow her passions, and I feel that I must do the same. The paranormal has been a secret passion of mine since childhood, and I fully intend to join her research group, if they’ll have me. Again, my sincerest apologies, but I can no longer live under the constraints of so-called ‘Modern Academia’. Best wishes, Dr. Phil Stevenson.’ That feel stuffy enough?” She can barely suppress a cackle as he blanches violently.

 

“Ooh, that’s good. I like it. Unfortunately, Phil, there’s really no room on the team for pasty D-bags. I hope you’ll understand.” Patty says as she grips his shoulders harshly when he makes another attempt to escape. “Man, you needa get out of this office once in a while, hit the gym. This is embarrassing.”

 

            “You’re bluffing.” He spits, vitriol flowing from his every pore, eyes narrowed to slits.

 

            “See for yourself.” Abby replies, turning the screen to let him read. “It would just be terrible if this were to accidentally find its way to, say, the entire faculty…So maybe you’ll answer my question now. Where would Erin go if she was emotionally compromised?”

 

            “Emotionally compromised? What is this even about?” He splutters before a sleazy smile crawls its way onto his face. “Wait, the blonde one isn’t here either. What, did Erin get her little heart broken again? I told her that those little crushes of hers were pointless. I mean, really. She’s not exactly God’s gift to women.”

 

            “Uh… _what_ did you just say, dude?” Patty is regretting being the one to hold him in check, because she’s rapidly rising into beat-down territory. Abby’s turning an alarming shade of red, and Patty realizes that if they don’t get some info and get out _quick_ , there won’t be anything left of this man when they leave. Phil, however, takes no notice of this, continuing on with his tirade, completely oblivious to his impending doom.

 

            “Two years ago, at our department Christmas party, Erin got smashed and made out with one of our Molecular Biology professors, Sandra, for like _an hour_. Of course, Sandra tried to forget the whole ordeal, like any sane person would, but when she refused to give Erin the time of day, she dragged me to this awful diner in Midtown just to cry about it all morning. I don’t know why I ever got involved with her, the signs were all there.” Abby ignores the way his tone makes her blood simmer, instead latching onto the one helpful thing he’d said.

 

            “What diner?” She barks, taking vicious satisfaction in the way he jumps.

           

            “Um, Garry’s or Larry’s or something terrible like that. On 20th somewhere. I wasn’t paying attention, I had a presentation to give to the board that afternoon.”

           

            “Of course you weren’t.” She growls dryly, fingers already skating across the keyboard. “Okay, Patts. 20th and 3rd. Let’s go.” Phil heaves a sigh of relief, although neither of them makes a move to leave. “Phil, I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasn’t. And the blonde one? She’s been in love with Erin since they met, you idiot. And they let you _teach_.” Her cursor hovers over the delete button until her replies.

 

            “Whatever. They deserve each other. Just delete the email.” This sends her simmering anger boiling over, and if you didn’t already know: karma’s a bitch named Abigail Yates.

 

            “Whoops?” She says, merrily hitting send. “Listen, a little advice. When you’re at the mercy of women who actually manage to _value_ other human beings, it would be wise to keep your _fucking_ mouth in check, ‘kay pal? And anyway, you and unemployment? You deserve each other.” She and Patty hop out the door before he comes barreling into the hallway, screaming for security. Abby circles back to grab him by the lapels, furious eyes boring into horrified ones. “The Mayor personally pays us to do what we do, so security can’t help you.” Before giving him a hard shove and sauntering out of the building like the Queen of Mayhem herself.

 

            “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” Patty chuckles as they hail a cab, and Abby can’t keep the smile off of her face. _All in a day’s work_.

 

***** 

 

            “So this ghost created separate versions of you, and made them die just to manipulate you?” Larry’s a smart guy, but this ghost business is a little beyond his grasp.

 

            “Well, Holtzmann’s died, but mine tried to choke me to death and convince her that it was the real one. I literally had to kill myself this morning.” Erin’s fingers tighten over Holtzmann’s and she breathes through the rising panic.

 

            “Pardon me, Doc, you know I don’t like to curse, but _shit_. That’ll put a damper on your Wednesday _for sure_.”

 

            “You’re telling me.” Holtzmann mutters darkly. “The only high points so far have been meeting you and the waffles.” Larry smiles wide, resting soft hands over their callused ones.

 

            “I think I may be able to help with that.” He chuckles before whistling and calling out to the woman behind the counter. “Theresa, darling, I need two more Docs over here!”

 

            “Erin, you have a food named after you -well, indirectly…but why didn’t you tell me you were this cool?!” Holtz laughs, question more or less sincere.

 

            “I’m a woman of many secrets.” She deadpans, feigning hurt when Larry and Holtz instantly burst into fits of giggles.

            “So anyway, girls…” He begins just as three orders of waffles slide onto the table, a quick wink shot over his shoulder to a smiling Theresa. “What’s next? You just go back to doing your thing?” It’s a gently phrased inquiry, sincere and somewhat worried.

 

            “Well, we didn’t capture it, so we got nothing to study that would possibly help us combat that kind of apparition in the future, so yeah. I guess we’re just back to business as usual.” Holtz fields the question, giving a fairly accurate run down of the situation. Before now, however, Erin hasn’t thought about what it’ll be like to just go back to work, to pretend her whole world hadn’t been shattered for the sake of their job.

 

            “It won’t be the same.” She whispers dejectedly. Their work, their team, their relationship had all become irreplaceable pieces in the structural foundation that made up her life, and it feels as though the certainty behind each one has been ripped out from under her and now she’s freefalling back into fear. Reckless Erin is nowhere to be found.

 

            “You -uh, you killed it right?” Larry’s words edge around the storm of thoughts clouding her mind, but the question is fractured and she finds she can’t force herself to try to make sense of anything right now.

 

            “Yeah.” Holtzmann jumps back in. “She sent it back to the other plane. At least, that’s where we think they go.”

 

            “So basically every aspect of what you do is based on theory until you gather enough data to prove them right or wrong?” This one makes more sense in Erin’s mind and she nods. “Then nothing really changes.” He states firmly, shocking Erin out of her head space and forcing Holtz to hold back a dark laugh. He can sense their disbelief, so he elucidates. “I mean, the two of you are basically working off of nothing in the first place, and this new development isn’t anything more than just that. A new development. So you take what you know, test a few theories, and you don’t give in to what it wanted. You don’t give in to the fear and the pain. You build upon the knowledge that it exists, and you grow stronger for it. I’ve known you for the better part of a decade, Doc, and I know that the only thing that can ever get in your way is you. Judging based on what you’ve told me about how this all got started, you’re both coming into your own here, and sometimes that involves getting knocked down -or getting choked by a ghost, in this case- and the only thing that matters is how you get back up. You don’t let it win, you fight to stand until you break through the ceiling and realize that your head was always meant to be in the clouds because you can see everything from up there.” He pauses, as if to evaluate the reception of his words, but both women are gazing at him, awestruck and raptly waiting for him to continue. “Your other option is to give in and let it interfere, prevent you from doing your work; let it get between you and poison your relationships. If you don’t carry on in spite of the fear, it’ll suck every meaningful piece of your life into the darkness along with it, and you end up alone and still afraid. _That_ is how the fear wins. But it’s your choice.” Holtzmann is quiet, ruminating over key phrases that tumble through her mind, but Erin has mascara running down to her chin and she can feel tears carving new tracks on her cheeks, no regard for the well-worn tracks left by the events of the day. Making a quick excuse, she shoots past Holtz and practically sprints to the bathroom.

 

            “Thank God, I thought she’d never leave.” Larry sighs, and Holtzmann stares at him in confusion. “So when are you gonna give it to her? The ring, I mean.” He’s got a conspiratorial grin flashing at a thousand watts, a fact Holtz would find extremely endearing if she weren’t so confused.

 

            “What? How did you-“ He cuts off her awed inquiries, they haven’t got much time.

 

            “Oh come on. You’ve had your hand in your pocket all day. Now, unless you’ve got a chinchilla in there, I’m guessing it’s a ring, and you’re trying to figure out when to give it to her.”

 

            “It’s -um- anodized titanium with inlaid sapphires. I made it myself.” She takes the small velvet box from her left pocket, flicking it open to reveal her latest secret project, of which there seem to be many these days. Larry lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

 

            “Honey, you’re in the wrong line of work.” He says offhandedly before catching himself and grinning apologetically. “Except, you’re not, are you?” At her subtle shake of the head, he laughs again.

 

            “I’m not trying to figure out when to give it to her.” She says, and it feels like a confession. His furrowed brow prompts her to elaborate. “I’m trying to figure out _if_ I want to give it to her.” She braces herself, waiting for some sort of explosive reaction, but Larry appears to be far more observant than one might think.

 

            “Not a fan of the institution?” He quips knowingly.

 

            “Every marriage I’ve ever seen up close dissolved into silent resentment, and I can’t do that to myself, much less Erin. But it’s what she wants…” Holtz trails off, not knowing what else there is to say.

 

            “Holtz, if I may give a little unsolicited advice? Don’t do it if you’re not 100% sure. I’ve made that mistake. And don’t do it immediately after something like this happens. It compromises the integrity of the moment, especially if it seems like a spur of the moment gesture. I’ve made that mistake too. If you do decide to do it, you’ll want to catch her off guard, but make sure to think about it from her perspective because something that might seem exciting to you may be terrifying for her if she doesn’t have all the facts. Make her feel utterly loved. That’s all you can do; the rest is up to her.” He beams as Holtz murmurs her thanks before taking her hand and adopting a grave tone. “And for what it’s worth, you’ve got my blessing. You’re good for my girl.” A brilliant smile breaks out on Holtzmann’s lips, and his eyes twinkle just the way her grandfather’s used to do.

            “Thank you.” She uses the same tone before relaxing a little. “So, Lar, tell me more about Baby Doc. I’m dying to know what kinds of stories you’ve got up those dapper sleeves of yours.”

 

***** 

 

            When they arrive, Holtzmann is deep in conversation with a cherub-cheeked older gentleman with twinkling blue eyes. They hesitate by the door until they spot a blotchy-faced Erin making her way toward the booth from the direction of the bathrooms.

 

            “Remember, be gentle.” Patty whispers as they charge forward, intent on figuring out just what had happened that morning.

 

            “You would not believe what I have said and done today in order to find you two.” Abby says as they screech to a stop in front of the occupied booth. Holtz is cackling at something the old guy has said, and judging from Erin’s intense blush, it was probably at her expense. Who even is this guy?

 

            “Hey, Abby. Patty. Um…sorry. We just had to get out. I mean-” Erin stumbles over her explanation, but Larry is already rising to greet them.

 

            “You must be Abby, and you must be Patty! Gosh, I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like I already know you. I’m Larry.” He gushes warmly, taking them each by the shoulder and gently guiding them over to the bar, chattering all the while.

 

            “That man is magic.” Holtzmann quips brightly, taking Erin’s hand in her own and kissing her knuckles one by one.

 

            “He really is.” Erin sighs, tension in her shoulders melting at the feeling of Holtz’s lips on her skin. “Holtz?” She rests her head on Holtzmann’s shoulder.

 

            “Yeah?”

 

            “I’m scared of you dying.”

 

            “Ditto, kid.” It’s not trivial, it’s love acknowledging the inherent risks of its own existence, and for now, it’s enough.

 

***** 

 

“Alright, ladies. I’m gonna hook y’all up, considering you both help keep my favorite customer safe, but first, we need to have a little chat.” Larry is deadly serious, but Abby has too much going on in her mind to notice the assumed severity of the situation.

 

“Wait, Erin? Is your favorite customer?” She’s shocked, not having realized that Erin frequented the place often enough to have more than a shallow relationship with the proprietor.

 

“Yes. Doc’s been a regular for the last decade.” He’s getting impatient, trying to warn them about the delicate situation they’re about to fling themselves into, but then Patty cuts in.

 

“Uh, Doc? Is that Erin?”

 

“She saved a man’s life the first time she came in here, and she’s been ‘Doc’ ever since. _Moving on_.” He says firmly, both women having opened their mouths, presumably to ask more questions. “Look, ladies, I’ll answer any questions you have, as long as you listen to what I’m saying right now.” Both stunned into silence, they simply nod their heads, wide eyes speaking volumes. “Okay. Now, as I’m sure you both know, this morning’s operation didn’t exactly go to spec, and they’re both pretty traumatized. From what they’ve told me, it would appear as though the ghost targeted them specifically, drawing on their affection and fear for one another to do so. Now, I obviously can’t prevent you from grilling them about it as soon as I turn my back, but Doc may as well be my daughter, so I’ll kindly implore you to wait until they’ve had some time to process.” He speaks in a hushed, clipped tone that Abby can appreciate, and Patty feels a little warm and tingly inside at the thought of a complete stranger looking out for their team. They nod simultaneously in affirmation before he claps them both heartily on the back. “Alright. So, what can I get you two lovely ladies?”

 

***** 

 

Twenty minutes later, Abby is chugging fresh-squeezed orange juice, Patty’s demolishing the best omelet she’s ever had, and Larry’s pulling up a chair at the end of the table. Holtz is making egg puns, Larry is enabling her, and Erin is laughing so hard it hurts. Time passes without a second thought as they listen to Larry recount story after story involving his varied encounters with Erin, and she thinks that maybe the family you love the best is the one you make for yourself. As she looks around, catching the glances of love and affection being pin-balled back and forth around the table, she wonders how she ever could have thought that an encounter with one ghost could change a single thing. That’s the trick with impromptu families: once they’ve gained a certain level of trust, nothing can break them apart. So she laughs until the muscles in her face spasm and her ribs hurt, and then she continues to laugh some more, surrounded by the people whose very existence make up the fabric of her entire universe.

 

 

 


	2. My earth is somebody's ceiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Holtzmann’s mind, there had been a time for placing untested nuclear weaponry in the lengthy arms of the physicist -grounding collar notwithstanding- and that time had passed. The city is no longer on the brink of destruction, and she has the time to tinker and test and perfect her equipment before letting it anywhere near her beloved team members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long guys, but it's here now and I invite you all to scream at me about it.

“You did _what_?” Erin’s exclamation of disbelief rattles off the various metal surfaces in Holtzmann’s lab, giving her voice an unsettling dreamy quality as it echoes away into the afternoon. And really, she shouldn’t be all that surprised, considering that Holtz had been locked away, on the cusp of discovery for a week now, that she had taken it upon herself to test her newest baby on her own. In Holtzmann’s mind, there had been a time for placing untested nuclear weaponry in the lengthy arms of the physicist -grounding collar notwithstanding- and that time had passed. The city is no longer on the brink of destruction, and she has the time to tinker and test and _perfect_ her equipment before letting it anywhere near her beloved team members.

 

                “ _What_? It was just a little bitty T2 apparition. And Clarisse here didn’t even explode this time. Totally safe.” She fixes Erin with her patented smirk and laughs internally when she visibly blushes. A laughter that subsides into sheer bliss when Erin catches her breath and tries to stutter a retort.

 

                “But…I didn’t even know you lef - _Clarisse_?” Finally settling on a line of inquiry, Holtzmann can almost see her blood pressure rising, her voice taking on that shrill tone usually reserved for those innumerable instances when Kevin blatantly ignores his duties.

 

                “Take it down an octave, Doc. I see the ulcer you’re getting. Yes, her name is Clarisse, and she is a little piece of genius, if I do say so myself. The way she just totally entranced him -well, anyone would have been entranced…I barely had to lift a finger.” A wink accompanies the residual smirk, and she can just _hear_ Erin’s heart rate spike.  Abby breaks in before she has a chance to finish her teasing, a small disappointment but nothing in comparison with the exhilaration of finally getting a chance to display her pride and joy.

 

                “Okay, enough. Just show us what Clarisse _does_.”

 

                “My pleasure.” She drops her voice into a lower register, making sure to hold Erin’s gaze just a second too long and it’s amazing that, after all they’ve been through, it’s still this easy. “Clarisse emits an electromagnetic frequency that draws the ghost in, similar to DeBye but without the explosions, and right when she has them transfixed she deploys a proton net and draws the vapor into her holding chamber _here_.” She taps the tank directly underneath the strange, claw-like fixture protruding from a large grounding block. “But here’s the real perk: she can sense the exact ionization levels of our hypothetical creeper and expand precisely the amount of energy needed to capture it and not an ohm more. Should reduce the number of hydrogen chambers we go through. I’m telling you, those things are not as easy to track down as you’d think.”

                Patty emits a whoop, along with a warm, “Way to go, baby girl!”, and Holtz can’t help but grin when Abby claps her on the back; however, the butterflies that always come with unveiling a new contraption turn to rocks in her stomach when she catches a glimpse of the way Erin’s arms are crossed and her jaw is set, and before Holtz can say anything, she mutters, “Nice job, Holtz.” Before striding out of the lab. Noticing the visible deflation of the engineer’s usually buoyant persona, Abby makes an excuse to chase after her, and then it’s just Holtzmann and Patty and she can barely stomach the idea that she’s somehow fucked this up too.

 

                “Tough break, Holtzy.” Patty drops onto the stool next to her and regards her with an air of concern. In a desperate attempt to shove all the black thoughts into a tiny box in the corner of her mind, she shoots off a quick, “Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.” Along with a massive grin, but Patty isn’t fooled in the slightest.

 

                “You trynna convince me or you?” A question Holtz doesn’t quite have an answer for, but suspects falls somewhere toward the latter side of things. With one last understanding smile and congratulations on the new trap, Patty runs off to order celebratory pizza, and Holtzmann is left alone with those nasty thoughts clawing their way back to the forefront of her awareness.

 

*****

 

                “Okay, so…what was that?” Abby’s voice slices toward Erin through the quiet of the kitchen and she groans internally. A lecture is so _not_ what she was looking for when she got out of bed this morning.

 

                “What was what?” She asks, the picture of innocence.

 

                “You stormed out of there like you left the stove on, which I know is a statistical impossibility because you check it twice every time you come in here. So I ask again: what was that about? Holtzmann looked like you kicked her dog and you’re usually the first person to go crazy over new gadgetry.” Abby’s eyebrows are so furrowed they’ve begun to disappear behind the frames of her glasses, and why did Erin always have to be so transparent?

 

                “It’s nothing, Abby. Honestly. Holtz is an adult, she can do what she wants. It’s not my place to tell her to bring someone along, or at least let someone know where she’s going…and-I mean, it doesn’t even have to be me-but seriously, who does she think she is? None of us would just go off on a bust by ourselves like that. What if she had gotten hurt or it turned out to be more than just one ghost? Then who would go save her ass? Not me, that’s for sure.” She feels satisfied with her outburst, if a little sheepish for unloading on Abby like that, but she needed to let it all out. Safety is important to her and Holtz is just flaunting it in her face.

 

                “This from the woman who disappears for two days to build a nuclear shotgun.” Abby mutters before addressing Erin properly. “That was a whole lot of nothing. Did you ever consider that it would be more productive to just tell her that instead of, I don’t know, glaring your tea into submission?” There’s this weird quirk at the corner of Abby’s mouth, almost as if she’s trying not to laugh. They both know that the last bit of Erin’s tirade is total bullshit. Erin would be the first one out the door if Holtzmann called for help, yet she can’t help but be irrationally peeved.

                It’s not like she asks for much around here; her aspect of the job barely even factors into the budget at all, but suddenly it’s too much to expect her colleagues not to be complete boneheads all the time? And at the heart of it all, she realizes that she’s really, truly scared. She knows that neither of them have completely recovered since the ordeal at the cemetery, and if anything happened to Holtz it would kill her inside, especially if she wasn’t there to do anything.

 

                “I’m gonna let you think that over, because the phone is ringing and Kevin left to go to his ballet rehearsal. Just…don’t be a dick?” Abby breaks into her thoughts, rocking away from where she’s been leaning against the counter and sauntering out of the room breezily as if she hadn’t just put Erin’s whole life into question. Exactly what that question was, she couldn’t really say. She can hear Abby’s strong voice floating in from the main room and she resolves to just apologize to Holtz when she comes down for dinner.

 

*****

 

                It’s uncharacteristically quiet in the lab when the pizza arrives, and considering it’s meant to be a celebration of Holtzmann’s newest creation, the other three are suitably concerned.

 

                “Someone’s gotta go get her.” Abby says, eyeing Patty and motioning to Erin behind her back.

 

                “Gilbert, you up.” Patty prides herself on her ability to keep a level head in times of crisis, but if Erin doesn’t pull her head out of her you-know-what, Patty’s liable to do some assisting.

 

                “What-guys, I _just_ sat down.” She’s a coward. She knows she’s a coward. “Why don’t we just send Kevin up there?” Their assistant, who had just walked in the door, gives them a little wave before grabbing a slice of pizza and walking right back out again. “Ooorr not.”

 

                “Huh-uh. You did this, baby. You gotta go fix it.” Erin scoffs as she stands abruptly, nearly knocking her chair over in the process, before stomping up the stairs to display her apparent displeasure. She proceeds more quietly once she’s ascended into the hallway leading to the lab, pausing to rest an ear against the door. When she can detect no discernable signs of life from within, she raises a shaky hand to knock timidly.

 

                “Holtz? Babe, the pizza’s here.” She hates the way her voice wavers, but she has more pressing issues when she receives no answer. “Holtz! Come on! I’m sorry! I was just scared for you…” Still nothing. Getting frustrated, Erin throws the door open. Holtzmann might not want to talk, but that’s not going to prevent her from doing so. “Holtz, I know you’re in-“ She freezes midsentence, now painfully aware that she’s yelling into an empty room. “Abby! Get up here!”

                Holtzmann is gone, open window glaring menacingly at her, and the whole world is spinning around her while she’s frozen on the spot. Footsteps resound in the hallway but Erin takes no notice. She can’t seem to take a breath and there’s an icy fist clutching her heart.

 

                “What’s the big deal, Erin?” Abby snaps, bursting into the room.

 

                “She’s gone.” Even her voice sounds cold, as if she’s being frozen from the inside out.

 

                “Who? Holtzy?” Patty’s close behind, striding around the lab with purpose. “Why do I feel like we can’t go more than a week without one of you two disappearing?” Abby delivers a swift elbow to the ribs and focuses on Erin.

 

                “She’ll be back. She probably just went out to look for parts.” Her voice is soft, but there’s a harsh line where her jaw is set.

 

                “Without telling me? Without telling anyone?” Erin’s hands are shaking as she turns to face her friends.

 

                “I can’t believe I even have to say this out loud, but you know Holtzmann has a habit of going out on her own at random intervals. And you were pretty hard on her earlier. Just give it a few hours.”

 

*****

 

Holtzmann would give anything not to be alone right now, but that’s her fault. Just like everything else. Why would she have thought Erin would be proud of her? After the incident in Queens, things have been difficult, like the second they turn away, the other is just going to disappear in a poof of mist. It’s just that she has such a hard time actually saying all the things that run though her mind. How is she supposed to tell Erin that she’d really rather just not bust at all at this point because every time she sees the spark of a proton pack, she’s right back in that graveyard, watching Erin destroy herself?  How is she supposed to explain that she wakes up every morning in a cold sweat and the only think that can calm her down is the soft feeling of Erin’s hair tickling her chin and the sweet floral smell of her shampoo invading her nostrils, tethering her back to reality? How does she communicate that she’s been reliving the worst day of her life every time she closes her eyes, when Erin doesn’t seem to be affected at all? What would happen to her if she suddenly lost the only person keeping her sane? Holtzmann doesn’t have any answers, so for now she’ll settle for getting suitably trashed. She signals for another shot, too consumed in her own nightmares to notice the woman taking a seat next to her.

 

“Fancy meeting you here.” She turns slowly, voice familiar and not necessarily in a good way. She groans and fights the urge to let her head fall into her hands; when she wished not to be alone, this was really not what she had in mind. She’s almost certain the universe is playing some kind of sick joke on her. “Rough night?” And now Jennifer Lynch is asking about her night. Perfect.

 

“You could say that.” Holtz quips, motioning for another shot before Ms. Lynch continues.

 

“Me too. How many times can a girl get stood up before she’s forced to admit she’ll end up alone with twelve cats?” Holtzmann would rather get sucked into Clarisse than discuss Jennifer’s apparently nonexistent love life.

 

“Dunno. How many times is this?” It’s a flat attempt at humor, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“Three.” Lynch says bluntly before waving the bartender down and wrangling several _large_ shots of vodka out of him.

 

“Well, I’m sure he’s a dick and you’re better off without him.” It’s pathetic, but it’s all she’s got. She can’t conscionably get involved in another relationship doomed because the guy’s too full of himself to even show up. She’s seen enough of that for a lifetime. Lynch takes another shot, chuckling darkly.

 

“Yeah, _her_ name is Lucy, and _she_ isn’t a dick. Just…uninterested, apparently.” Holtz whips around on her stool so quickly that it’s all she can do to stay upright.

 

“Lucy, you say?” Her attempt at leveling her voice into nonchalance fails spectacularly, and Lynch laughs again.

 

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Holtz bows her head good-naturedly before barking a laugh of her own.

 

“I gotta admit, Jenny, you’re a tough nut to crack. However, this new development makes you about fifty times more interesting.” She’s had enough Jack to make her blunt-well, blunter than usual.

 

“Ooph, Holtz. That one hurt.” She’s still got a smile cracking through her pout, and this feels weirdly like the beginning of an improbable friendship.

 

“I would say it’s the whiskey talking but…” She trails off with a hearty shrug and Jennifer laughs, a genuine tinkling sound that makes Holtz rethink everything she knows about the Mayor’s aide.

 

“I’m not gonna lie…” Lynch starts, all hushed tones and alcoholic confidence. “When Page 6 broke the story about you and Gilbert, half the women in this city cried themselves to sleep.” Holtzmann giggles, though she remembers Erin being very put out about the article in question. Granted, it was a very scandalous looking shot of them tripping into a cab together after a night at the club with the others, but Erin was sick of being in the news period.

 

“Were you one of them?” She asks, preparing herself to give the inevitable ‘Thanks, but I’m taken’ speech, but Jennifer’s response stops her short.

 

“I was just so convinced that Gilbert and Yates had something going on, I kind of had to train myself out of being jealous of your girlfriend.” It floats out almost without thought, as if she’s thinking the words as she says them, and Holtz almost chokes on her shot.

 

“Wait, Abby?” She splutters.

 

“Yeah…she and Erin seemed so close…”

 

“No, I mean you and _Abby_?” It’s kind of the best thing she’s ever heard, short of Erin murmuring in her sleep.

 

“Oh. Uh…” She erupts into nervous laughter before covering her face in her hands and murmuring, “Can I put that cat back in the bag?” Holtzmann simply shakes her head slowly, cackling.

 

*****

 

“Okay, Erin. We’re heading to bed!”

 

“Mhm…” She mutters, eyes trained on the door. Abby and Patty share a glance, concern clouding their features.

 

“Babes, come me. Y’all can yell at each other in the morning. It’s late and it’s been a long day.” Patty intones. She’s getting damn tired of trying to reason with crazy people.

 

“You guys go to bed. I don’t think I could sleep even if I wanted to. I’ll see you in the morning.” She reaffixes her unwavering gaze to door, lurking across the room, and Abby feels the need to physically restrain Patty from smacking some sense into their morose friend.

 

“G’night, Erin!” She calls, marching the larger woman up the stairs and into the room that had been sectioned off for sleeping quarters after Dr. Gorin had taken a turn for the worse and Holtzmann had insisted on sleeping in the lab. In the recent months, all four members had moved in permanently, for all intents and purposes.

 

“Abbs, did you call that sound proofing guy yet?” Patty asks suddenly, arms crossed.

 

“Okay, for the last time, my snoring is _not_ that bad.”

 

“Girl, you sound like a drunken sailor with emphysema.” Patty quips, snorting.

 

“It’s a genetic condition, _Patricia_.” Abby snaps before slamming her door.

 

“Call the dude, Abby!” Patty shouts through the thin barrier, striding into her own tidy room happily. She’s got a hot date with Alexander Hamilton and some ear plugs.

 

*****

 

“Ugh, would you stop _laughing_?” Jennifer moans into her hands.

 

“I’m sorry, but this is hilarious. And now that I think about it, I’m not sorry.” Holtzmann chuckles again.

 

“ _Why_?! Why is it funny?”

 

“Besides the fact that I thought I was gonna have to fight you for a sec? You do realize that Abby’ll chew you up and spit you out in, like, five minutes, right? You let her get her feisty claws in you and you’re a goner.”

 

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t look like your relationship is exactly perfect either.” Lynch fires back. “Or is there a different reason for why you were over here sulking?” Holtzmann’s smirk disappears, replaced by a guilty grimace.

 

“I…did something stupid. Kinda. But, in my defense, safety has never been my strong suit. And I was just trying to protect them-her.” She falls silent, content to sip her drink and brood.

 

“What, did you, like, go off on your own and try to fight a ghost or something?” Holtzmann’s wince is all the answer she needs. “Jesus, Holtzmann. I’d kick you out for a while too.”

“She didn’t kick me out. Or really even say anything…” It’s the most depressing thing she’s said all night: admitting to how deeply she’s screwed herself over. She can see Lynch trying to mentally put everything together, and she can also see the exact moment everything clicks.

 

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you…”

 

“Out the window. Storm drain.” Holtz confirms, staring intently at the chipped wooden bar in front of her.

 

“Well, it was nice knowing you. I’ll be looking for your obituary in the paper.” Lynch says with a disbelieving laugh.

 

“Don’t remind me.” Holtzmann grumbles. “I’m just not good at this stuff.”

 

“Running away from your problems? No, I’d say you’ve got that one down.” Lynch observes dryly.

“What was I supposed to say?” Holtz asks defensively after a moment. “That I’m sorry for trying to protect her by not putting her in danger in the first place?”

 

“How about you start with ‘I’m sorry for climbing down a storm drain just to avoid actually taking to you’ and see where it goes from there.” Lynch says sarcastically, irritation dripping from her voice. “You two are half the reason Mayor Bradley hasn’t been impeached by now, and if you fuck this up, I will come for you.” There’s a menacing edge to her tone and Holtzmann doesn’t doubt that if things go south, she’ll find herself doing a nickel upstate for breaking ‘federal regulations’ or something.

 

“When Erin gets worried, there’s no talking to her. It’s like arguing with your grandmother. She’s so cute and concerned, you just have to give her everything she wants.”

 

“And you want to keep putting yourself in unnecessary danger, so you won’t talk to her in order to prevent making promises you know you won’t keep?” It’s almost as if Lynch is simultaneously trying to understand the situation in its entirety _and_ berate Holtzmann for her implied stupidity.

 

“If I can keep her out of danger, then yes.” Holtz replies dourly. “I don’t need to see her die again.”

“Um-hold up… _again_?” Jennifer’s eyes are wide enough to catch a reflection and Holtzmann has the sinking feeling that she’s going to have to go through the whole thing _again_.

 

“Okay, Jenny, you wanna know what it’s _really_ like to be a Ghostbuster?”

 

*****

 

Erin startles awake just as the clock hits 2:00, the sharp sounds of her breathing overly loud as they echo away through the silent firehouse. Kevin freezes as he tiptoes comically through the room, a childish look of horror stretching his features.

 

“Oh. Uh…Erin. Hi!” He giggles as he sends her a little wave, dropping back into his usual lackadaisical stance.

 

“Kevin. It’s two a.m.” She states dumbly, more as a reassurance to herself than anything else.

 

“Yeah, my date ran a little late, but Tom is really interesting.” He explains guiltily, scratching his neck.

“You’re gay.” She says, same blunt tone invading her voice, belying her shock.

 

“Yeah!” He answers enthusiastically. “Welcome to the club!” He barely gives her any time to digest before continuing. “Why are you sleeping on the couch? Is your bed broken?”

 

“I’m not-“ She pauses, reconsidering the potential energy it would require to explain her sexuality to him, instead changing the subject completely. “Have you seen Holtzmann?”

 

“Um…have you checked the lab? That’s where she was when I left.” Her stomach falls further into her toes with every word that flies haphazardly from his mouth.

 

“She left.” Her voice is hollow as she internally fights the words tumbling out.

 

“Oh. Well, I’ve gotta hit the head. Early morning, you know. Sorry about your bed!” He calls happily, already retreating to his quarters.

 

“Hay, Kevin. It’s hay.” She says, talking to an empty room for the second time tonight. Minutes pass in silence before the first tear winds its way over the topography of her face, and she hates herself a little bit more with each one that follows.

 

***** 

 

Lynch listens raptly to Holtzmann’s every word, like a small child who can’t turn away from a scary movie. When it’s finally over, a full minutes of stunned silence follows.

 

“How could you not know which one was the real Erin?” She finally inquires, brow furrowed in confusion. “You guys have been dating for, like, months, right?”

 

“It was like that ghost could see into our heads. It looked exactly like her, had her voice, knew what to say…And everything was happening so fast, it was over before I had time to think through any of it.” Holtz grumbles into an empty shot glass. If she hadn’t had time to think about it then, it’s all she can think about now.

 

“That’s fucked up.”

 

“Indeed.” The bar is beginning to feel like a horrible decision, and that doesn’t even factor in what she’s going to say to Erin when she inevitably returns. “I can’t believe you thought Abby and Erin were dating.” Anything to take her mind away from the fog and the fear.

 

“Oh my god. Can we _not_ talk about this?”

 

“I just didn’t know you were allowed to have…you know, _feelings_.” Holtzmann jabs, trademark smirk flaring into existence.

 

“Spending all day, every day with Mayor Bradley? You should be glad I still have feelings. It’s like having a twelve-year-old as your boss.”

 

“Or a big ol’ robot.”

 

“Actually, I think that would be preferable.” Lynch deadpans, downing another shot.

 

“I could arrange that…no one would ever know.” Holtzmann chuckles, envisioning a giant walking, talking Gerald running the city.

 

“Don’t tempt me.”

 

“Aaand that’s my cue.” Holtz says, carefully extricating herself from her spot at the emptying bar. “Before I get roped into some nefarious conspiracy. As much as I would love that, I doubt Erin would approve.”

‘Hey, Holtzmann?” Lynch doesn’t quite make eye contact. “Don’t hurt her, okay? She’s spent long enough hurting because of other people.” Shock runs like a current along the length of Holtz’s spine, and her face must be frozen in confusion because Lynch elaborates. “Working for the Mayor comes with certain perks, and one of those is that I get to know stuff.” Absently tossing out her best salute, Holtz hunches her shoulders in preparation for the crisp October air and tries not to let the thought of another person having the capacity to hurt Erin wiggle its way into her already wounded heart.

 

***** 

 

It’s nearly 4 a.m. by the time Holtzmann finally clambers back through the open window into the lab, a harrowing little adventure in and of itself, but nothing compared to what’s waiting for her.

 

“So nice of you to drop by, Holtz.” It comes from behind her, voice infinitely more calm than she would have expected.

 

“Uh, Abby. Hey.” Any ounce of smooth talking she might have left flees the scene at the sight of Abby’s set jaw and the steely glint in her eyes. “Where’s Erin?” There’s no avoiding the wrath of Abby, so Holtz cuts to the chase.

 

“You know, I’m inclined not to answer that question, seeing as how you don’t seem to feel the need to do us the same favor.” It’s harsh, but she deserves it; however, Abby relents at the grimace that inhabits Holtzmann’s features. “She’s asleep on the couch downstairs. Where she’s waited all night for you to come back so she can apologize. To you.” Every word lands like the blow of a hammer, until Holtz is literally cringing in the corner.

 

“Look, I just-“ Abby has no time for excuses so she cuts it off as soon as it starts.

 

“You just what? Couldn’t bring yourself to actually apologize for doing something stupid, so you ran away from the only person who’s ever remotely understood you? God, Holtzmann, she spent the entire night pretending she wasn’t about to cry. Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?”

 

“I was thinking about her! That’s why I went alone in the first place!” It’s a rare heartfelt outburst, but if she had expected anyone to understand her motivation, it would have been Abby. “I’d lose it if something else happened to her.”

 

“And what if something happens to _you_?!” Abby explodes, rage seeping through her every pore. “You think she would be able to cope any better? That she’d be even remotely okay? Holtz, you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, but you can be so _stupid_ sometimes. And running away just made it worse.” She raises a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose, a move that innately reminds Holtz of Rebecca, and all the fight goes out of her.

 

“I can’t _sleep_ , Abby. I wake up every night to the sound of her screaming and I can’t do it. I can’t let her get hurt.” Her voice is thick and she runs a hand through tangled curls in frustration. Abby’s heart is breaking and, for once, she’s got no more argument left in her.

 

“Talk to her, Holtz. You can’t protect her from the world, or even from herself, but you sure as hell can make sure you protect her from yourself.” Last piece of sage advice exhausted, she envelops Holtzmann in a weary hug. “I’m glad you’re safe.” Holtzmann clings on for dear life, finding comfort in the first real friend she ever had. “Goodnight, Holtzmann.” And then she’s alone again, the last thing she ever wanted to be.

 

*****

 

What was intended to be an unsung romantic gesture quickly proves to be a task of almost comic proportions. How hard should it be to carry one tiny, sleeping physicist up a single flight of stairs? Apparently, epically. First off, every time Holtzmann attempted to position Erin in a way that would make it possible to lift her off the couch, she flails around until she settles back into increasingly more improbably configurations.

Finally maneuvering the sleeping woman into a position where she can safely lift her, Holtz hoists Erin into her arms, heart fluttering at the way Erin clutches at the sleeve of her jacket.

 

“Come on, Baby Girl. Time for bed.” She whispers softly, any and all apprehension disappearing as she takes in the soft features of Erin’s face. She looks peaceful, more so than she ever does while awake and Holtz can’t help but feel a steely wave of guilt wash over her. She feels awful for the way things have happened, but it doesn’t change the way she feels about Erin’s safety. And she’ll do anything for that, even if it means that Erin will push her away. But for now, she gets to revel in her presence and all the nasty thoughts can be shoved out of the way until morning.

They’re halfway up the staircase when Erin stirs, small murmurs leading into a semi coherent sentence.

 

“Holtz. You’re here.”

 

“That’s right, Babycakes. I’ll always be here.” Erin clings closer before her eyes flutter closed and Holtzmann continues the journey toward their shared room. Closing the door and flicking the lights off, she bends down to power Erin’s nightlight up, Saturn’s rings lighting their path to the bed, however, Holtzmann is now faced with an unforeseen problem. Currently, Erin is clinging to her neck like a large, red-headed koala and her grip shows no signs of easing up. Her plan had been to get Erin to bed and then spend some time in the lab, but that seems to be an increasingly unlikely event. Her only real move now is to try and swing them both into the bed and pray to whoever is listening that it’s not enough to wake Erin. Holding her breath and executing a pendulous acrobatic-type motion, she gets Erin into a somewhat horizontal position, but she underestimates the inertia involved when Erin pulls closer in her surprisingly deep slumber and Holtz is sent tumbling over onto the other side. She lands flat on her back, air leaving her lungs in a soft whoosh. The blood in her veins turns to ice when Erin begins to stir before melting with alarming speed when she only murmurs and snuggles into the crook of Holtzmann’s neck.

 

“I’m so sorry, Erin. I am. But I can’t let you get hurt.” The reassurance glides out on a silken whisper before Holtzmann’s eyelids suddenly feel heavier than a proton pack, and the world fades away into a pleasant darkness.

 

*****

 

                “Abby. It’s been two days and they’ve said a word to each other. I can’t take it anymore.” Patty breaks the thick silence that seems to have settled over the firehouse. She and Abby are holed up in the library, anything to get away from the wistful stares and cold shoulders.

 

                “I know. It’s madness. Holtzmann is refusing to apologize and I doubt Erin would listen if she did. How do we convince two people who each thinks they’re right that they’re _both_ wrong?”

 

                “We don’t.” Patty states, closing her book with finality. “They gotta figure it out for they selves.”

 

                “Then what _do_ we do? I can’t work like this!” Abby feels helpless, a feeling she’s not well acquainted with and often rejects completely. Patty’s eyes brighten as their phones simultaneously scream to life.

 

                “Now? We bust.”

 

*****

 

                “Uh. Help?” The ghost seems to be targeting Holtzmann specifically, which would be fine except that every time she wrangles one into an open trap, another breaks off to take its place. They’re multiplying faster than she can dispose of them, and slowly she finds herself backed into a corner, hence the confused cry for assistance.

 

                “Holtz, it’s _one_ ghost!” Abby calls from across the mall, where she is similarly engaged with a vapor of her own.

 

                “Not really!” Holtzmann snaps back, hitting the deck to avoid being torn to shreds by a particularly vicious manifestation of the disgruntled delivery man. “I’ve got the frickin’ _hydra_ over here, if anyone would care to assist!”

 

                “Oh, _now_ you need help?” Erin scoffs, neatly eviscerating the apparition she’s been grappling with, the familiar rapport of DeBye rolling through the deserted building. They’d all agreed to use the gun sparingly in order to preserve as many specimens as possible to study, but her irritation gets the better of her. She’s finally reached her boiling point. The simmering of her blood quickly freezes to sub-zero temperatures, however, when Holtzmann emits a chilling shriek.

 

                “Erin!” They’ve got her surrounded, a whirling mass of bodies, with the same horrifying face adorning each, cold hands reaching to pull parts of her in every direction. In that moment, Erin knows only explosions. Explosions into motion, her every heartbeat the start of a nuclear chain reaction. Explosions of feeling, fear and rage and love and pain. Explosions of pure, crackling energy as she sets upon the hoard with a single-minded fury. Neither compassion nor remorse filter through the haze encircling her vision; she is the Goddess of Death and Destruction. Her hair, soaked through with the gore of her victims, swings wildly as a wraith rips it free of its holder. She takes on the apparition, resorting to pistol and grenades when the single shot of DeBye limits the breadth of her maniacal stampede. She eliminates them faster than they can possibly divide, until she’s facing a single malicious entity holding Holtzmann in its oozing clutches. It’s then that she falters, the only thing standing between her and a unilateral victory being the woman she could never bear to lose.

 

                “Erin.” Holtz begins in a low tone. “He’s starting to split.” It’s a veiled statement of understanding: do what you have to do. As if she could ever bring herself to aim in Holtzmann’s general direction, much less pull the trigger. So instead, she holsters her weapons and waits, calculating. “What are you doing?!” There’s a note of hysteria in Holtzmann’s voice, and pain too, but Erin-in full Reckless mode-steels herself to the sound. She has a plan, but it’s got to be timed perfectly or she’ll be risking life and limb, and not just her own.

 

                “Holtz, you’d do anything for me, right?” It’s very sincere, but all part of the plan.

 

                “Of course, _Darling_ , but I don’t know if now is really the time…” Holtzmann can’t resist quipping, struggling against the now four hands restraining her.

 

                “Holtz, if you trust me at all, I need you to duck.”

 

                “Duck?” The question pops out before realization dawns and Holtz drops like a rock for the second time today. As she descends, she has just enough presence of mind to watch as Erin goes ballistic. Reckless as she’s ever been, she leaps as high as she can, sailing through the air over Holtzmann’s head in a sort of crooked spiral. The two manifestations tear apart in a flood of ectoplasm right as she reaches them, and that’s what she’s been counting on. Instead of crashing into the spawning vapor, she flies directly between them, pivoting in the air to blast them each as she rotates, and tumbling back to the ground in a neat somersault. Breathing quickly through the haze of mist that haloes her, a vicious smile slashes her face in two.

 

                “Headshot.” She mutters before taking stock of the situation. Abby and Patty are wrangling the last of the ghosts into a containment unit, while her own corner of the building is littered with puddles of greenish water, ectoplasm seeming to multiply with the addition of H2O.

 

                “Ugh.” Holtzmann groans as she slowly rises to her feet. “Thanks.”

 

                “Anytime.” Erin says curtly.

 

                “How about never again? That was kinda crazy…” Her eyes snap up to bore into Holtzmann’s, disbelief running rampant on her face.

 

                “Excuse me?”

 

                “That was insane, okay? I wish you just would’ve used one of the grenades instead of going all kamikaze on me.”

 

                “I…can’t even talk to you right now. And I’m out of grenades, _Holtzmann_.” Erin stalks away from a chagrined Holtz, pausing to address Abby and Patty on her way. “I’ll meet you guys back at the firehouse. I’ve got some errands to run.”

 

*****

 

                “I just don’t know how to fix it. It’s like I can’t tell her I’m worried about her without it blowing up in my face. I’m outta my depth here, Lar.” Holtzmann says with a sigh, sitting in their usual booth across from the world’s most fabulous diner proprietor.

 

                “Nobody would feel completely at ease in this situation, Jillian. It’s normal.” Larry says, taking note of the odd expression that crosses her face at the mention of her name. “Not a fan of the first name, I take it?” Holtzmann snorts.

 

                “You could say that.” As if this day hadn’t been complicated enough, now she has thoughts of her mother and Rebecca floating around in her mind, a bittersweet windstorm of subtle sadness.

 

                “My apologies. The whole last name thing just feels a tad impersonal to me. Maybe we can work out a compromise of some kind?” He treats her to a warm smile, bright eyes twinkling mischievously.

 

                “I’m assuming that ‘Waffle Girl’ is taken?” She shoots back, not losing a beat. Larry tips his head back, laughing deeply.

 

                “I’m afraid Erin beat you to that one.”

 

                “Figures.” She chuckles before falling silent. A thoughtful furrow appears between her eyebrows as she considers her options. She’s never been in the position of being able to choose her own nickname before, and now that she is, she’s drawing a blank. After she’d started going by Holtzmann, all thoughts of what else people could call her had flown out the window. And Larry was like a father to Erin, he knew more about her than anyone, so it has to be something special, not just your average, run-of-the-mill nickname.

 

                “How’s this: I know you’re not a fan of Jillian, but what about something like ‘Jills’? Not quite the same thing.” Larry once again frowns as a similar peculiar look crosses her face. “I’m guessing you’re not a fan of that one either.”

 

                “No, I am.” Holtz blurts, shaking her head before clamping her mouth shut to prevent any further leakage of information. However, Larry remains quiet, waiting for clarification. “It’s just…that’s what my grandfather called me.” She finally lets go of her apprehension, acknowledging the high probability that he’d get it out of her one way or another.

 

                “Were you close?” He asks gently, unable to keep from prying, if just a little.

 

                “He taught me everything.” She admits on a whisper. Thoughts of wrinkled hands and joyful eyes assail her as the name rings through her mind.

 

                “Well, with your permission, of course, I’d say that sounds like a decent place to start.” He defers respectfully. And who says chivalry is dead?

 

                “Alright, Lar. Jills it is.” She confirms with a shy smile. “No chance I can call you Eddie now?” She’d recently learned that his middle name is Edward, and has been waiting for a chance to use it against him.

 

                “Not in hell.” He cracks with a wry smile.

 

*****

 

                “It seems like this whole situation is about to blow up in my face and I have no clue how to fix it. I wish you could tell me what to do.” Erin sighs wistfully. As calming as it is to sit in the soft grass next to Dr. Gorin’s headstone, she could use some practical advice right about now. Plus, she misses Rebecca’s snappy witticisms and strong insight. “I know I’ve never come here without Holtz before…I hope that’s okay. It just seemed like a good place to think. Things haven’t really been the same without you.” The stillness begins to creep into her bones, anxious shivering ceasing as Erin drinks in the sunlight. She’s been less panicky lately, Reckless Erin becoming less of a passing façade and more of a permanent setting, but even so, it’s sometimes impossible to still her shaking hands and calm her racing heart. The panic has been so much of a staple throughout her life-the default Erin-that she’s surprised at how irregular it feels in this moment. She doesn’t recognize the adrenaline rushes; she once welcomed them. She’s uncomfortable with how at ease she’s become in her own skin, and she can’t help but wonder if that’s part of what’s driving a wedge between she and Holtzmann.

 

                “Everything feels different. I’ve never part of a relationship where so much growth has taken place before. I feel like she doesn’t need me anymore.”

 

                There’s no reply.

 

                “Okay, I’m aware that the basis of a relationship shouldn’t be that we need each other, but it felt more secure when that was the case.”

 

                Again, the silence seems to respond and she can just picture Rebecca’s arched eyebrow and veiled grin.

 

                “And I know you think we’re being stupid, but I watched her die, and I wouldn’t be able to cope if something actually happened to her…” Erin trails off, so deep in though that the words are no longer forthcoming. It’s true that she would go off the deep end if anything were to happen to Holtz, and if recent actions are anything to go by, Holtzmann feels much the same way.

 

                “So you’re saying that we do still need each other? And that that feeling doesn’t just go away because we’ve grown? And maybe we’re growing closer instead of further apart, so that means we just need a period of adjustment. And of course, I can’t really be mad at her anymore for trying to protect me when I very possibly could be in the same situation…and I hurt her feelings.”

 

                The quiet seems to approve of this train of thought, encouraging her onward.

 

                “She’s trying to protect me, and I’m trying to protect her, but we’re both doing it alone. Maybe instead of working at cross-purposes to protect each other, we need to work together. It’s what we’ve been doing all along, after all, and just because something awful happened doesn’t meant that has to change. The most important thing is that I have her back and she has mine.”

 

                The silence feels content, if a bit smug.

 

                “Damn you’re good.” Erin whispers, smiling.

 

                The calm concurs.

 

*****

 

                “I do trust her!” Holtzmann argues. If there’s anyone in this world she trusts, it’s Erin.

 

                “It doesn’t seem like it.” Larry says calmly. “Look at it from her perspective: something awful happened, and even though you took care of it quite handily, you don’t want her to be in any potentially dangerous situations. Even though nothing physically happened to either of you, you don’t trust her judgement anymore. Or your own.”

 

                “I just know that we can’t prepare for every possible contingency and, eventually, that’s going to lead to mistakes. There’s a smaller probability of Erin getting hurt if she enters fewer dangerous situations in the first place. It’s simple math.” Holtz counters, ignoring his (valid) argument to make her own.

 

                “But did you ever ask if that was something she wanted? I’m sure she’s worried about you too, but it doesn’t seem like she’s actively trying to stop you from doing a job that I know you both love.” Larry says gravely. He’s grown to adore the eccentric woman across from him, and he’s just as concerned for her safety as he is Erin’s. “If there’s anything I know about Doc, it’s that she loves her work. If you start getting in the way of that, she’s going to grow to resent you for it.”

 

                “I’m just trying to keep her safe.” Holtzmann whispers, a hard knot forming in the pit of her stomach. “Do you…do you think there’s still time? I mean, to fix this?” Her voice is small, and with the exception of the first time they met, he’s never seen her like this.

               

                “As long as you want to fix it, there will always be time. But don’t that there won’t be work involved. You’re going to have to prove that you trust her again. It’s going to take time.” He says gently, standing to grasp her shoulder before heading back to the kitchen and leaving her alone with her thoughts and her waffle.

 

*****

 

                “We all gonna be okay, right?” Patty looks over at Abby, who’s struggling to use chopsticks while simultaneously focusing on the movie they’ve selected. Abby sighs in frustration, chucking the sticks back into the bag and scrambling for a fork before diving back into her lo mein.

               

                “What do you mean?” She’s being evasive, reluctant to broach the topic and not taking her eyes off the screen. Patty snorts, grabbing the remote and pausing the film. They need to have a legitimate conversation.

 

                “Ugh, Patty! I was watching that!” Abby complains.

 

                “You _just_ told me you’ve seen this movie 37 times.”

 

                “Point Break is a classic! And you’re omitting the part where I said it keeps getting better.” Patty holds in a laugh; it’s almost as if there isn’t a movie on this earth Abby hasn’t seen at least twenty times.

 

                “Answer my question: are we gonna be okay?” There’s a sad note in her voice that Abby hasn’t heard before and it hits her that maybe Patty is just as scared of losing her new family as she is.

 

                “Yeah, we’ll be fine, Patts. We’ve seen way too much shit to let a little argument get in between us.”

 

                “This don’t feel like a little argument.” Patty mutters absentmindedly.

 

                “Okay, Patty. They’re literally fighting over who get to keep who safe. That’s not a fight that’s likely to end up in anything other than a gross, sappy make up at a completely inopportune moment. You know them.”

 

                “True. How sappy though? I don’t wanna be around for that shit…”

 

                “It’s better than every time we have to pull you off of some guy sweating gin on the dance floor.” Abby scoffs, returning her attention to her food.

 

                “Hey! Don’t hate cuz you jealous!” Patty giggles. “I mean, when was the last time you got dirty in the club?”

 

                “Okay, _gross_.” Abby rolls her eyes, vehemently attacking a piece of beef that seems to be eluding the spines of her fork. “That’s never been something that I was interested in, anyway.” It’s almost an afterthought, though Patty can see a hint of pain shining through in Abby’s bright green eyes.

 

                “Hey, what’s goin’ on, girl? Talk to Patty. I ain’t gonna think you any crazier than you already are.” It’s gentle but firm, urging her to speak her mind but reassuring her that it’s okay if she’s not ready.

 

                “I mean, it’s just never been that interesting. Semi-anchored entities and hollow beam lasers? Those are interesting, but having someone all over you constantly…the bacterial risks alone are atrocious.” She pauses and Patty tries again, only to be cut off by another monologue.

 

                “Abbs-“

 

                “Would I like someone to talk to, to spend time with, to hold and be held by? Of course I would! Someone to hold hands with and laugh with and walk through Central Park at Christmas with…but I don’t want somebody who’s going to resent me for not wanting-not needing-everything else. So it’s nobody. And I accept that.” Her voice grows quieter with the weight of her admission, and while they’ve been friends and comrades-in-arms for so long, Patty’s never heard her speak so candidly about herself before. She had had her suspicions, but hearing Abby’s side of things in its entirety makes her so _proud_. She’s been carrying this around with her all her life and it’s never held her back or made her feel less than.

 

                “Girl, you know that’s okay, right? Some of the greatest figures in history never had time for ‘everything else’. She says encouragingly. She has a sinking feeling that, as brash and brazen as Abby is, she’s never really been given the chance to talk about this with somebody who loves her. Maybe Erin, but that would mean in the last ten years she’s been alone in this. Now it’s Patty’s responsibility to make sure she knows that what she feels is okay and valid. That she’s loved unconditionally.

 

                “But if that’s how I feel, then why do I still want all the other aspects of a relationship?” Abby doesn’t look up, insecurity flashing through her usually indestructible sense of confidence.

 

                “Baby, romanticism and sexuality are two different things. You can want one without the other. It’s totally a thing, and you sure as shit ain’t alone.” She finally looks up, meeting Patty’s gaze with a watery smile, and Patty shoots her a reassuring grin.

 

                “Can we unpause the movie now?”

 

                “You got it, Yates.”

 

*****

 

                Erin spends hours with Rebecca and Gerald, recounting the Ghostbusters’ every adventure, content with the sound of her voice and the stillness. Eventually, she runs out of everyday minutia to discuss, and she falls silent. Then,

 

                “Gerald, I’m really glad that Holtz had you in her life. I doubt she’d be the same person, and I would really have liked to meet you. Same goes for you, Rebecca. I’m glad she had you-well, I kinda did too. Just…thank you both for being there for her. And I’ll do my best to continue the legacy.” Her piece said, she brushes her coveralls free of grass and dirt and strides away from the only two people who loved Holtzmann as much as she does.

                Walking aimlessly through the city, she thinks back over the last six months, how much her life has changed. She’s gone from a tenure-hungry professor at Columbia whose only measure of success was how other people perceived her to a Reckless vigilante scientist who cares only for the people who love her back. She’s in love; real, painful, scientifically-provable love, and for the first time, she’s not afraid of it. She’s not running away at the first sign of heartache and it surprises her just how badly she _wants_ this life. How devastating it would be to lose after they’ve worked through. Her anxiety, Rebecca’s death and everything that came along with it. Watching each other die.

                Looking up, she’s surprised to find herself back at the firehouse, sun setting behind the place she now knows as home. Where she loves and is loved, where she can be reckless and broken and irrational because that’s a reflection of the world she lives in. Where she doesn’t have to pretend for _anyone_. Where she can bust, and build, and laugh, and fall asleep every night flying through the infinite reaches of the universe. _Home_.

 

 *****

 

                Erin is watching the end of the movie with Abby and Patty when Holtz gets back, clomping down the hall and collapsing into an armchair with a sigh, just in time for the end credits to begin rolling. Abby and Patty play a game of ‘who can side-eye each other harder’, and the silence once again becomes stale and oppressive.

 

                “Holtz…” Erin starts hesitantly just as Abby stands up.

 

                “Hey, Patty, remember that thing you were gonna show me after the movie? That new book thing?” She’s frantically trying to pull the larger woman to her feet.

 

                “Oh, yeah. That…book thing. Sorry guys, we gotta go.” She catches on, letting Abby lead her away.

                “Wow guys.” Erin states in a mild state of disbelief.

 

                “Not even a little transparent!” Holtz hollers after them.

 

                “I don’t know whether I should be pissed or disappointed that that’s the best they could do.”

 

                “Disappointed, I think.” Holtzmann says, shifting her gaze from the doorway back to Erin. “After all, they’re trying to help.” Erin nods solemnly. “Either that, or they’re trying to keep us from the new bouncy house they installed and are hogging all to themselves.”

 

                “Holtz.”

 

                “Right, sorry.”

 

                “Listen. I think things have gotten a little out of hand here…” It’s not much by way of substance, but it’s a start. “But we need to set some boundaries.” Holtzmann’s stomach drops to the floor like a lead weight; boundaries were never discussed when she talked with Larry, and if she’s honest, the old guy’s advice is all she has to go on here.

 

                “Boundaries?” It’s a little choked, but she thinks she manages to keep the majority of her panic hidden. “What-er…what kind of boundaries?”

 

                “You know, we work together, we-um-date? So I think that we should talk about what’s appropriate in certain situations.” Erin is trying very hard not to let on how deeply terrified she is to be having this conversation.

 

                “Oh, it’s _all_ appropriate…” Holtzmann jokes, eyebrows waggling suggestively. She settles when she sees the tense look on Erin’s face. “Boundaries, right.”

 

                “I think we should stop letting this…thing we have get in the way of our objectivity. On the job, I mean.” There’s a twinge somewhere around her heart when she sees Holtzmann’s reaction, and she instantly wants to rephrase.

 

                “You think it gets in the way?” Holtzmann is 16 again, the girl she likes telling her that she would totally date her, if she was a boy; she’s 19 and watching her lab partner saunter out of class with a jock named Chad; she’s 22 and getting dumped because ‘what if people found out I’m dating a girl?’

 

                “I think that we spend a lot of time needlessly worrying about each other when we could be using that time and energy to be more productive.” Erin starts again, trying to reverse the damage she’s so clearly done.

 

                “You don’t want me to worry about you?”

 

                “No, Holtz, I’m just saying that we’re all on the same team here, and we need to trust each other rather than try to undercut each other in the name of trying to stay safe. It does us no good if we’re working at counter purposes.” Erin is growing increasingly more exasperated with her own inability to voice what she really wants to say. It’s all coming out wrong and doing more damage than good. Just as she’s about to try again, the sirens Holtz has hooked up throughout the firehouse (though Patty forbid them anywhere near the library) grind into gear, and Abby can be heard shouting into the phone. Patty appears at the door, calling,

 

                “We got a bust, guys! Big one, from the sound of it!” Before disappearing in a flash of pink hair and gold jewelry.

 

                “Holtz…” Erin tries in vain, registering Holtzmann’s withering look.

 

                “Boundaries, remember?” She grits out, stomping through the door.

 

***** 

 

                “Holtzmann, my pack’s out of juice! I’m down to the glove!” Abby shouts as her proton stream dribbles down to nothing.

 

                “Shit! I was gonna change your RPA chamber out after this morning!” Taking a quick look at the vast array of creatures flying, crawling, and staggering down Broadway, she makes an executive decision. “Okay, Abby? Fall back. Erin, Patty, close ranks. We got another wave coming at us.” It’s a formation they haven’t tried before: Holtz in the lead, Erin and Patty slightly behind to either side. Abby trails behind them, occasionally popping out with her glove or a grenade as they bulldoze their way up the street.

 

                “Where are all these assholes coming from?!” Abby shouts as she rolls to avoid the golem-like creature scuttling after her.

 

                “I have a theory about that-“ Erin yells, cutting off as the deafening rapport of DeBye rolls in echoes off the marquis adorning theater fronts. “-I think that after Rowan’s little stunt, the ley lines-“

 

                “Are still charged!” Holtz finishes, the light of realization shining in her eyes. “Why didn’t we think of that earlier?” She pauses to rip a suspiciously Shakespeare-looking ghost to shreds with her dual pistols.

 

                “That actually makes sense.” Patty chimes in, working her own magic with her trusty chipper. “We’ve never seen this many occurrences before that creepy dude started in with those cyclo-thingys.”

 

                “And let me guess: Broadway falls on a ley line.” Abby comments dryly between punches. Holtzmann turns back to gape at her in disbelief.

 

                “Uh, Abbs? It’s _Broadway_. I think that’s a given.” Their attention is abruptly directed to the sight of Erin dashing after a vapor, who seems to be screaming in terror and trying desperately to escape. Gaining on it rapidly, Erin lets out what can only be described as a war cry and launches herself directly underneath it, blasting with her pistol and sliding to a stop on one knee. It’s the best release for tension that she’s ever experienced, that is, until Holtzmann’s voice slices through the haze.

 

                “Erin, what the sweet _fuck_?! You totally broke formation!” There’s actual anger coloring her harsh tone, and Erin has never responded well to being yelled at, plus her Reckless level is at an all-time high.

 

                “Stay in your lane, _Babycakes_!” She sprints off after another apparition, basking in the glow of endorphins and grinning like mad. The group has pushed through to the epicenter of the chaos, halting their progress up the street and forcing them to scatter. Holtzmann ends up pinned to Patty’s back while Erin plants herself in front of Abby, the shorter woman popping up randomly to take ghosts out with her glove. After a particularly close call involving hauling Abby out of the way and enduring the brunt of the attack, Erin is covered in ectoplasm and Holtzmann is fed up. However, rather than vocalize her frustration, she nearly runs Patty down, intercepting the ghost that had been heading for her friend. After a startled ‘Holtzy!’, Patty takes the hint and steps to the side. Precious few moments pass before she finds Abby at her side, casually commentating on the vicious fight taking place before them. After Erin makes yet another grand leap over a pile of disoriented ghosts, blasting them back to oblivion, Patty barely has time to register Abby’s “Gilbert goes for the jump… _Oh_! And she sticks the landing!” before Holtzmann’s voice negates the presence of all other sound.

 

                “ _Erin, stop doing that!”_  

 

                “ _Make me!_ ” Comes the spitfire response.

 

                “Oh! And J. Holtzmann with the slap shot! She’s 3 for 3, ladies and gentlemen!” Abby’s less than subtle glee catching Patty’s attention once more, she notices the sizeable crowd standing just behind them, cheering with every announcement Abby makes.

 

                “Would you quit that?” She nudges the feisty woman at her side, but Abby just flashes her an evil grin.

 

                “Oh, Patty. I’m just getting warmed up.” A loud crackling erupts as Holtzmann smashes to ghosts together with her dual pistols and Erin audibly growls.

 

                “ _Holtzmann, I swear to God!_ ” Holtz turns to face her, curls bouncing with the motion, completely oblivious to the vapor approaching her from behind.

 

                “What? You jealous, Gilbert?” Pivoting on the spot, Erin sends a proton stream just over Holtzmann’s head, immobilizing the wraith before a boom from DeBye sends showers of mist raining onto Holtz, fogging up her goggles.

 

                “Not even _close_!”

 

                Abby cackles, yelling, “Dr. Gilbert, everybody! Doctorate of Particle Physics, Masters in Women’s Studies, and PhD in _ass kicking_!” ‘

 

                “Oh my god…” Patty calls, bewilderment and disgust frozen on her face as she turns to Abby. “Tell me they ain’t _flirting_!”

 

                “Come on, Patts, enjoy the show.”

 

                “You crazy. You all crazy!” She pauses in denouncing her colleagues before murmuring conspiratorially, “20 bucks says this ends in a make-out session.”

 

                “Fifty says we get a proposal.” Abby cracks back.

 

                “A hundred. One of them yells ‘Because I love you!’”

 

                “I’ll take that. A hundred to me if the words ‘marry’ and ‘me’ are used in the same sentence, a hundred to you if any declarations of love are shouted from the rooftops.” Abby shoves her hand into Patty’s shaking vigorously.

 

                “Excuse me, ma’am?” A mild looking gentleman edges in, smiling. “I’ve got fifty with Ms. Tolan here.” Patty gives him a high-five before Abby shouts, “Anyone else?! The bet’s a hundred, but we’re willing to haggle!”

 

                ______________________________________________________________________________

 

                To Erin, nothing feels better than watching a ghost explode into a trillion droplets of water, a triumphant eight-year-old gleefully destroying her haunted past somewhere in her mind. She’s never been much of a risk taker, but the dangerous element gives her a buzz like she’s never felt before. Like some wild, caged beast in her chest is breaking free to wreak havoc on the world, changing everything irrevocably. Every sense in heightened, it’s like she’s seeing the world through a predator’s eyes and with every movement a ferocious joy pumps its way through her veins. Somewhere deep within, she knows she is Erin Gilbert, mild mannered physicist; but here, now, none of that matters. She is alive. She is vibrant, a super nova expanding into infinity with the explosive energy of a thousand suns. And there is no force in the universe that can compromise her. Except maybe one.

 

                “Erin, _stop_!” Holtzmann shouts as they collide, vying for the same entity, working to destroy those roaming a plane on which they do not belong.

 

                “I’m just having a little fun, Holtz!”

 

                “Okay, I’m the first to say that safety is for dude, but it’s like you have a fucking death wish! You let that ghost lift you up ten feet before you shot it!”

 

                Off on the sidelines, Abby addresses her audience once again while Patty rubs at her temples. “Let the bickering _commence_!”

 

                “I’m not the one going off on my own! If we hold you back so much, why not just break out on your own?!” Erin shoots back, the tide of battle sweeping her away once more.

 

                “Is that what this is about? I was just trying to protect you! How many times do you wanna handle the untested nuclear weaponry?!” Holtzmann bellows, slicing an apparition neatly in half and pausing to watch it dissolve into nothingness. Erin dodges the swipe of an ethereal beast with six-inch claws, casually dropping a grenade into its open maw before dancing away to observe the resulting explosion with gritty satisfaction.

 

                “Oh, and she goes for the subtle explosion!” Abby calls, to gracious cheering from the ever multiplying crowd.

 

                “Why do we even need a giant ghost claw in the first place?! How are we ever gonna transport that thing?” Erin yells over her shoulder, the ebb and flow of the fight bringing them back to back, the street becoming a whirling vortex of ionized energy, the two of the effectively caught in the eye of the storm.

               

                “Don’t bring Clarisse into this! _She did nothing wrong_!” Holtzmann shouts. “And if you’re gonna play that card, why did we need DeBye? We were doing just fine without him!”

 

                “Are you seriously mad about that? I told you I was sorry for taking your pipe!”

 

                “Okay folks,” Abby calls. “Background info: DeBye is the shotgun. Erin… _borrowed_ the supplies from Holtz to make it. So what’s happening here is that Holtz is feeling underutilized and a little threatened, and Erin is getting defensive because Holtz tried to one up her, and she hates being micromanaged.” Several ‘ah’s from the crowd prompt Patty to shake her head.

 

                “Will you shut up, Abby?!” Holtzmann hollers from her place in the street.

 

                “Nope!”

 

                “I already tried, baby!” Patty yells in consolation.

 

                “Is that true?” Erin asks during a small reprieve.

 

                “I mean, a little, but not really. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” Holtz answers, ducking as Erin uses the stock of her shotgun to bash a ghost over the head.

 

                “Well, that’s all I’m trying to do! But I don’t understand why you keep going behind my back to do that!” Erin’s at the heart of the issue finally, but just as Holtz is about to reply, a ghost detaches from the vortex wall and grabs her, dragging her into the air by her jumpsuit.

 

                “Little help?” She calls, more calmly than anything else she’s said.

 

                “You know I’d do anything for you, _Babycakes_!” Erin shouts, smiling.

 

                “Aw, I’m touched.” Holtz has a mere instant to adjust before Erin has a vapor tethered to the end of her proton steam and…is she _riding_ it?

 

                “And in a never-before-seen display of Recklessness, Ladies and Gentlemen, Dr. Gilbert is now _riding_ a ghost!” Abby cackles.

 

                “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Holtzmann screams, flushing from head to toe with panic. Erin hits the vapor holding her engineer with a grenade, jerking the ethereal steed to the side at the last possible moment to catch a plummeting Holtzmann.

 

                “Hop on, fair maiden.” Erin says with a wink.

 

                “Erin, how in the _frilly hell_ are we going to get down?!”

 

                “I got this.” Erin states confidently.

 

                “The last time you said that, you almost fell off the fire pole.” Holtzmann remains unconvinced.

 

                “Shut up.” Erin snaps, pulling down with her proton stream, sending them into a screaming descent. Pulling up just in time to avoid splattering the pavement with Ghostbuster-shaped puddles, she effortlessly grabs Holtzmann and pushes off, sending them shooting off to the side as the ghost is sucked head-first into an open containment unit. Erin lands lightly on her feet, while Holtz is less lucky, doing a lovely belly flop into a huge pool of goo.

 

                “You saw it, people! Once again she sticks the landing. Aaaaand… _Oh_! In an unprecedented upset, the judges give her a perfect 10!” Abby shouts to riotous applause, while Patty can only mutter, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Holtzmann, for her part, comes up sputtering.

 

                “Of all the hair-brained-What were you even- _Why would you do that!?_ ” Her ranting, however, is put on the back burner at the sight of Erin’s tender smile.

 

                “Because I love you, Jills. More than anything. Also…I made a promise to some people.” In the background, they can hear Abby’s eruption of, “ _Oh, for the love of Christ!_ ” followed quickly by Patty’s, “Aight, pay up people!” but none of it matters. Because they’re standing in the street, together, covered in goo and grime, and even if it’s been said a thousand times a day in a million different ways, it’s never been spoken aloud like this before.

 

                “You love me?” Holtz blinks in surprise at the sound of her own voice.

 

                “Uh…Holtz? Duh?” Erin giggles. “Why else would I get so fucking mad at you?”

 

                “I…did not know that’s what that meant…” Holtzmann is somewhat dumbstruck, the last words she expected to hear today reverberating around in her skull.

 

                “Also, Holtz…Boundaries are for dudes.” The smile that erupts on Holtz’s face could be seen from another galaxy before she becomes more thoughtful.

 

                “Erin?”

 

                “Yeah?”

 

                “I think you should get in as much danger as you want.” Erin looks confused at this. Wishing someone danger isn’t exactly the response to ‘I love you’ that she was looking for. “Because I’m, like, the Chief-Deputy of Got-Your-Back. Any ghost you decide to lasso in the future, I’ll be right behind you.”

 

 

                Abby is still grumbling about her loss of the bet by the time they slide into their regular booth at Haunted, minus Erin and Holtzmann who’d both agreed to meet them there. After several moments of squabbling about over-under possibilities and the questionable ethics of betting on their friends’ relationship, Abby gets a text and immediately begins searching the crowd.

 

                “That Erin and Holtzy?” Patty asks, intrigued by the look of apprehension plastered across Abby’s face.

 

                “Huh? No.” She gives no further explanation, instead resuming focus on the various throngs of people mingling about the room.

 

                “Abby. Who was it?” She breaks Abby’s concentration by waving a hand in front of her face.

 

                “No one. I just invited someone out with us…” She trails off as her eyes light up, something she can’t hide despite all her efforts. Peering in the direction of her gaze, Patty finally feels her sense of outrage erupting as she registers who exactly Abby has invited to their celebratory night out.

 

                “Oh _hell_ no. Uh-uh. Not happenin’. She whispers vehemently.

 

                “Oh come on, Patty. She’s nice.”

 

                “You invited Jennifer frickin’ Lynch to _party_. With us.”

 

                “She asked if I’d be free for dinner some time and this was just easier. Calm yourself, you’re gonna break out in hives again. Jesus.” Her voice quiets even more as Lynch gets closer to their booth.

 

                “Abigail. Yates. _What_ have I told you about _dating bureaucrats_?!” Patty hisses almost silently. Instead of a reply, she receives a swift elbow to the ribs as Abby stands to greet her date shyly.

 

                “Hi, Jennifer. Holtzmann and Erin are running a little late, but they should be here any minute now.”

 

                “Please, call me Jen. And I’m a little bit glad I got here first, to be honest. Erin can be a little scary at times.” Abby at least has the decency to _try_ not to laugh; however, Patty-who is under no such societal restraints-lets out several of the loudest cackles Abby has ever heard and she winces internally.

 

                “You want a drink?” Abby says, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

 

                “Lead the way?” As Abby almost drags Jennifer away from her presence, Patty notices Erin sitting alone at the bar and Holtzmann strutting toward her, dressed up for the first time she’d ever seen. Her surprisingly long hair falls in ringlets past her shoulders, and she’s wearing some cobalt thing that hugs a figure Patty didn’t even know she had. Soft makeup (sans goggles) completes the look, and Patty hardly recognizes her.

 

 

                “Jillian Holtzmann: Virgo, avid skier, and 100% jazzed to meet you.” Holtz leans against Erin’s stool, spicy cologne invading her headspace and rendering her momentarily tongue tied. “And you are?”

 

                “I’m Erin. With an E…for everything you want. Nice to meet you.” It’s light, pleasant, but with an underlying understanding of their history. That they’ve been through so much and always come out of it together, recognizing the individuality they each need without compromising the stability of their relationship.

 

                “C’mon, Babycakes. Mama wants to buy you a drink.” Holtzmann says with a wink, dropping the act. Leaning in to whisper in Erin’s ear in a way that makes her neck very tingly, Holtz says, “I love you, Erin Gilbert.” Before pulling her into a searing kiss. Just as Erin regains control of herself, though, Holtz pulls away to grab her hand and lead her toward their table.

Dishing Holtz a taste of her own medicine, Erin leans over her shoulder, making sure to brush up against her back and murmur, “Jills, you look gorgeous. But I miss the leather jacket.”

 

“Hey,” Holtzmann stops, eyes twinkling mischievously. “We can always go home and I’ll put it on for you.” Two can play at this game, Erin thinks.

 

“Just the jacket?” She whines, all doe-eyed innocence and fake pout. Holtz blushes but laughs it off.

“You are an evil woman.”

 

“But you know you love me.”

 

“Can’t argue with that logic.” They scootch in next to Patty, who takes one look at the couple on either side of her and nopes the hell outta there.

 

“You people are gross. _Gross_!”

 

Jennifer and Abby are deep in conversation when their drink arrive, and once the waiter (who is still afraid of Holtzmann) has left, Erin makes eye contact with Abby and gives her a reassuring smile and a subtle thumbs up, while Holtz just says, “Hey, Jenny.” And throws out her best salute. Lynch even manages a convincing smile toward Erin, prompting Holtzmann to chuckle and quietly. When Erin asks about it, Holtz simply kisses her senseless, the smell of orange blossoms and whiskey and faintly oil-tinged cinnamon invading her senses and all she can feel is joy.

Meanwhile, Patty is doing what she does best: getting a little dirty in the club, with a tall, handsome man sweating gin on the dance floor, and really alcohol always tastes a little bit like love anyway.

 

               


End file.
